One Day At A Time
by PettyWhiteRose
Summary: With the Battle for New York over, Steve Rogers continues to learn about his new life. Loki is chained in a Midgardian cell, his magic stripped away, his mind muddled by Thanos. The one thing they have in common is the interest of a certain mutant woman who likes to interfere in both their lives. Well. She calls it helping. Sequel to "Learning The Ropes" Movieverse AU. No Slash.
1. Chapter 1: S Shawarma

Shawarma turned out to be an Arab dish: different kinds of meat wrapped up in soft bread or served plain. Steve sat across from Banner at with Eleanore, Thor, and Tony to this left, and Darren, Romanov, and Barton to his right. Jet lay on the floor with two servings of every kind of meat in the place set out in front of him. It was crowded, but the silence in which everyone ate made it seem like there were fewer people present.

Steve had chosen the beef, plain, with a side of french fries. He ate as much as he could of it, which was almost the whole thing, before a wave of exhaustion hit him. He set his plate aside and rested his head on his hand.

Eleanore was already at that point almost as soon as she sat down, her head drooping every possible direction. Once she hit Thor's shoulder, and he grinned at her in understanding before wolfing down the food she pushed in front of him.

Darren was done eating in about five minutes, and Steve offered him the untouched food left on his plate. Darren gratefully accepted this, and it was gone in less time than the first batch.

Tony leaned back in his chair, seemingly lost in thought, only eating the occasional bite.

Bruce ate almost as quickly as Darren, his hunger clearly fueled by the Hulk. Tony had gotten him a new shirt and pants from the tower before they had made their way down to turn Loki over to SHIELD.

Natasha and Clint stared into space in opposite directions. Clint looked nearly as tired as Eleanore, which was understandable as he was the only true human in the group. Natasha ate her wrap in slow bites, stopping once in a while to watch the man behind the counter or the woman sweeping broken glass from the shop floor.

Eleanore rested her face in her hands as a final solution to keep from bumping her head into the people next to her. Steve heard her breathing even out in a moment, and he watched to make sure she didn't fall out of her chair. He felt like he could fall asleep too, but they had to report to SHIELD right after this to get some answers and give some about how the battle went down from all sides. He kept himself awake by rehearsing how he was going to ask about the nuke.

Thor, Darren, and Banner finished their food at around the same time, and Barton, Natasha, and Tony wiped their hands and nodded.

Darren nudged Steve and motioned to Eleanore. "Would you tap her on the shoulder? She wakes up jumpy sometimes."

Steve nodded and did as he was asked. Eleanore raised her head with a snort, looking around and rubbing her eyes.

"Was I out very long?" she asked Steve as she stood.

"Just a few minutes," he confirmed, pushing his chair in.

A quinjet was waiting for them right outside the restaurant, and the boarded without a word. Steve sat between Banner and Eleanore, Darren on her right, with Barton, Tony, and Romanov across the aisle. No one bothered to buckle up.

The ride to the helicarrier was short, the landing gentle. They departed into the same hangar they'd left from, and Steve noticed a couple of Harrier jets missing as well. They entered the elevator with a young agent as a guide, and they were taken to a room on the cell block floor. The door slid open silently to reveal a small conference room with a screen-covered table.

"Welcome back," Fury greeted them. Steve felt his fatigue disappear in the face of the man who'd shot a nuke at them.

Before he could say anything, Darren stepped around him.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, almost yelling. "You sent us in there to save people, then just decided to give everyone up? To a _nuke_?The rest of the East Coast would have been irradiated, and you could have started a war!"

"In case you missed the notice, I'm the one who told you two about the bomb," Fury stated calmly, his good eye narrowing. "I didn't send it."

"Oh," Darren took a step back, and Eleanore stood beside him and rested her hand on his arm.

"Then we'd like to speak to whoever did, please," she said calmly, a friendly smile on her face.

Steve glanced around and saw the rest of the Avengers were frozen in shock at this reversal of roles.

"Then be seated," Fury invited them, gesturing to the table. "And we can begin."

The team filed slowly to their seats at the oblong table, and sat without a sound. The order, clockwise, was Steve, Eleanore, Darren, Tony, Banner, Romanov, and Barton. Jet sat beside the door, watching everything with cloudy blue eyes.

"To start," Fury began, seating himself on the edge of the table, "You should know that SHIELD did not authorize that nuclear strike. It was the World Security Council."

"See, this is why I don't like to get angry," Darren muttered.

"They overrode my orders," Fury continued. "They believed that stopping the invasion in Manhattan was worth whatever else we lost. I disagreed, but they sent a lone, armed jet without my knowledge. I told you as soon as I knew."

"Are we going to talk to the Council?" Eleanore asked.

"Not today. I wanted to give you guys a break from their questions. And besides," Fury grinned just slightly, "They don't know your identity."

"Let's keep it that way," Eleanore sat back in her chair with a sigh.

"Now, let's turn on the cameras to record this meeting for posterity," Fury signaled, and cameras descended from the ceiling of every corner of the room, red lights blinking. "Each of you give your account of the battle, and anything else you'd like to say."

Everyone looked to Steve, so he went first. "The Chitauri relied on numbers to overwhelm our forces. They were easy to take down one-on-one, but they moved in packs. They attacked the buildings so that people would run onto the streets."

"They used the hovercrafts to herd people into corners more easily too," Clint pointed out. "Tony and Darren, and that dragon thing, kept having to break up soon-to-be mass graves."

It continued like that, with everyone giving input about how he battle had appeared from their perspective. Romanov talked about how the Chitauri seemed to be used to being stronger and bigger than their opponents. Eleanore said their weapons blasts were deflected and absorbed by water. Tony talked about how they were terrible at aiming their hovercraft weapons, and Clint backed him up. Banner said they seemed not to talk to each other. Darren said when he'd follow a group and pick them off one by one, none of Chitauri would try different tactics. They flew the same way every time, no matter how many of their group died around them. Thor said the monstrous flying live ships were injured by lightning, but it did not kill them unless it was conducted into their bodies by metal.

Steve asked how many casualties were counted in Manhattan, and Fury shook his head. "Too soon to know."

When they had spoken for around ninety minutes, they slowly ran out of things to say. Silence fell over the room, broken only by a last-minute comment or a yawn.

"Well, I'd say we can wrap this up," Fury stood, and the Avengers followed suit. "On behalf of the human race, thank you for your actions today." He came around and shook each of their hands one by one. "Go get some rest," he suggested when that was done. "We can discuss more tomorrow."

They left the room in a group, and headed in the same direction to the dormitory hallway. Night was quickly approaching as the ship sailed over the ocean, the coastline barely in sight.

Barton's door was on Steve's other side, and Romanov was beside him. They each gave a halfhearted wave as they retired immediately.

"Night, love you," Eleanore said, kissing Darren on the cheek and hugging him close. She turned and gave Steve a smile. "Night Steve."

"Goodnight," Steve replied, noting Tony lingering at his own door a little ways down. The couple turned and he hugged them both in what Steve thought was an uncharacteristic display of affection.

Steve didn't bother reading into it, instead entering his own room and placing his shield on the ground right next to the head of his bed. Loki was on board, which meant anything could still happen.

Steve stripped off his uniform and carefully laid it over the desk chair, opening his bag and retrieving sweatpants and a t-shirt. He knew from television that it was now common to sleep in one's shorts or underwear alone, but he'd never felt comfortable with that, especially not on a ship surrounded on all sides by his teammates. He reached into his bag again, noticing an unexpected sensation, and realized that Eleanore had thrown his dressing gown inside it when she'd retrieved the bag from his room. That seemed like an eternity ago, but Steve was at once grateful for her meddling. It meant he could shower without having to dirty his clothes. He laid the clean things out on the bed, ready for him when he returned.

He put on the dressing gown over his underwear and slipped his shoes on over sockless feet. He thought he remembered seeing a men's bathroom at the end of the hall, and hearing running water coming from there the day before. He made sure he had his access card, and padded quietly on the shiny floor, wondering where a towel was when he needed one.

The bathroom was where he'd expected it to be, and clearly labeled _Men_. Across the hall was the women's and Steve could hear shower water coming from it as well. He entered the men's room and found a row of toilet stalls in the front, with a walled-off section of five showers in the back. There was a rack of large and small black towels, and Steve assumed the color was to avoid blood stains. There was even a soap and shampoo dispenser on each shower wall. None of the showers were in use, and Steve was reasonably sure the entire bathroom was deserted. He turned on the water of the last shower, disrobed, and stepped into the hot stream.

The shampoo had almost no scent, only smelling faintly of clean laundry, and the soap was the same. Steve had grown used to strong-smelling men's soap over the past couple of weeks, so it was a change. He kept smelling himself to make sure he washed every bit of sweat and dirt off.

About halfway through his shower, Tony came in. Steve could tell it was him because loud, obnoxious music was playing from some type of portable speakers.

"Cap, that you?" he asked, turning on the water in the shower next to Steve.

"Yeah," Steve answered. He didn't want to encourage conversation in the shower. He lathered up a second time and just as quickly rinsed off, finishing with his hair. The shut the water off and reached around the corner for his towel, drying himself quickly with the rough material.

"Dad, is that you?" Darren's voice came with a rush of cold air as he opened the door.

"Yeah, Cap's here too." Tony said over his running water. "Post-battle shower party."

"I… might use my own shower," Darren sounded disturbed.

"You can shower with me," Clint came in, and Steve rolled his eyes, reaching for his robe.

"No thanks."

"Hey Steve, didn't know you were a boxer-briefs man." Clint winked at him as he opened the shower curtain.

"Um, yep." Steve had never liked talking to people in the showers. In the Army, before the serum, he'd risen early to get in and out before the bigger men. They often wanted to wrestle, and it both hurt Steve and made him uncomfortable. He still wasn't over the feeling, because it seemed to only have happened a little over a year ago.

He made sure his robe was tied tightly, picked up his dirty underwear, and threw his towel in the hamper provided next to the towel rack. Then he slipped his shoes back on and quickly left the bathroom.

Eleanore's laugh floated out of the women's bathroom, and Steve heard Natasha say something in return as he entered the hall. Their words were lost in the water and noise coming from the men's room, but Steve could tell they were happy. He was glad. Romanov did not show affection to anyone in a group, except perhaps for Barton. If Eleanore was friends with her too, that meant the team was that much stronger.

Steve padded down the hall and took his room card out of his pocket, opening the door and entering into the darkness and blessed quiet. Most of the time he chose to surround himself with distractions to keep the memories away, but tonight he welcomed whatever the stillness would bring. He changed into the clothes laid out on his bed and slipped under the covers, feeling warm and clean for the first time in over a day.

Steve focused on relaxing his muscles and falling asleep. Some nights it wasn't difficult, and some nights it was. With the battle still rattling around in his head, Steve guessed that this was going to be a difficult night.

He sighed and rolled over onto his back, thinking through every attack, every advance, every move he'd used and how they could be better. He thought about what he'd seen of his teammates, and how he could work them into future plans. Tony needed to be monitored to not sacrifice himself again. Darren could be useful as a sniper and spotter, but his real value was in his flying capabilities and artillery. The team was well balanced, Steve thought, with three to four people in the air, and the same number on the ground. They were all flexible, all willing to help each other out.

Banner would want to avoid battle as much as possible, but he could be useful if he stayed ready to jump in and monitored everyone, maybe helping Eleanore if someone was injured and needed to be moved off the field. Jet should avoid tight spaces because of his tail and wings. Steve wondered if he was effective as a dog, or another animal in a close-quarters fight. Eleanore should learn to use her water in the air more, because that would be a potent weapon, one people wouldn't expect. Steve pictured the opposing elements, water and fire, working together with satisfaction.

He was feeling more restful, and he closed his eyes to speed the process up. Images of his own mistakes flashed behind his eyelids. Not watching his surroundings and getting tackled, being too slow to help Romanov out, watching Loki from the ground, unable to do anything as he flew by overhead. They weren't deadly, but they bothered him. He planned how to avoid them in the future, and that comforted him.

In the middle of his thoughts, he unknowingly drifted into sleep.

 _ **A/N: So this is my new story. It seems the same as the old one right now, doesn't it? It's not, though, so please keep reading for the new stuff.**_

 _ **Have a great week!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	2. Chapter 2: L Prison on Earth

Loki stared at the wall of the small room, listening to the goings-on around him. Small lights dotted the white ceiling, illuminating the table in front of Loki and the bareness of the small space around him. The gleaming of his shackles, the complete lack of magic. The walls were gray, thin by Asgardian standards, and made of flimsy materials that easily transferred sound; the Midgardians had no magic to prevent it. Of course, they did not know he could hear them either.

" _I don't care that he came after it,"_ a strident voice belonging to the leader of the clandestine organization SHIELD rang out in a room two doors away. _"The Tesseract was on Earth, and it provides us with vital intelligence about unknown energy sources."_

" _And weaponry as well,"_ this voice from the pale-eyed man out of time. _"Hydra used it to make weapons of mass destruction, and SHIELD was doing the same. I say we send it back."_

" _Aye,"_ this voice grated on Loki's ears and nerves, far too familiar and close. _"The Captain is correct. Midgard is not ready for such knowledge as the Tesseract provides. She is a gem of unimaginable power, and—"_

" _And you just get to keep all the power up in your little slice of Heaven, is that it?"_ This from Stark, one of the only true mortals among the merry band.

" _That is not what I mean to say, Man of Iron. It is simply that mortals are too weak as yet to wield such power unchanged."_ Loki almost smiled. Thor was still no better at negotiating, no matter how he professed to have learned from the humans.

" _I think that's a decision for Earth to make. Not you."_ The commander was speaking again, with nearly the same authoritative tone as Odin.

Loki sighed imperceptibly, knowing that his every move was recorded by Midgard's primitive magic. He had been bound by Thor, who'd brought out the special gag and manacles that would strip even Loki's power. While this would normally have been no more than an inconvenience, in this case it prevented Loki's magic from healing him quickly, as it was bound even at the most basic levels. Every time Loki breathed, he experienced sharp pain throughout his body, from his head to his toes. The green monster had certainly done a thorough job of smashing him. _From one monster to another._

Loki took a moment to assess his injuries once more, grounding his mind in the pain. His collarbone was broken and displaced, which led to grating every time he drew breath. His back was full of needles, and Loki suspected many cracks and fissures ran through the bones there. His hip felt similar. His left leg was the worst, where the Hulk had gripped him, because he'd walked on it all the way to his cell refusing to show any weakness. His head was throbbing and clouded, and Loki fought through the muddle of his thoughts to focus on eavesdropping once again.

" _It makes no matter,"_ Thor was saying. _"The All-Father cannot bring us back to Asgard the same way he sent me to Earth. We need the Tesseract to take Loki home to face his punishment."_

" _Why are we only hearing this_ now?! _"_ The director of SHIELD's voice rose in volume and anger. _"So let me get this straight. Your brother just brought an army to New York and busted shit up, killing who-knows-how-many people, and now you want to take that motherf—"_ he was cut off in his tirade by a knock at the door. _"What?!"_

Instead of a reply, Loki could barely hear the door opening, and he assumed someone entered. Not everyone walked as loudly as Thor.

" _Um, guys,"_ a feminine voice spoke quietly and calmly. It was not the red-haired Widow woman. Loki had never heard this voice, but the brunette woman with the water magic had never spoken during their trip through the tower to hand him over to these pitiful agents. Loki assumed it was her.

" _What is it, L?"_ the Captain of the country spoke in a friendly tone. _What kind of a name is that?_ Loki wondered.

" _You know he can hear you, right?"_ the voice obviously belonged the killer of fun and dreams. _"He's listening to every word you're saying."_

The room went deathly quiet. Loki imagined them all looking toward the wall, which bordered the room between himself and them.

" _That's impossible,"_ Stark began, just as the Captain said, _"How do you know?"_

" _He's… amused. And his emotions are following your conversation pretty well, considering."_

" _Considering what, Miss Engman?"_ The director's voice was quieter and more focused.

" _Considering he's fighting off the remaining effects of mind control."_ Loki's breathing hitched, and it had more to do with shock than pain. _"He feels worse than Hawkeye did when he woke up after Widow cognitively recalibrated him."_

The room was silent again, and this time for a much longer period. Loki realized that this water witch must have the power to read minds as well, and that she'd been processing his thoughts the entire time he'd been in the room, if not longer. He felt violated beyond even when he knew he was watched by Heimdall.

Finally, the director spoke again. _"Good intel, Agent. We'll talk about the rest of your statement later. For now, keep it to yourself. Okay people, let's move this conversation to a more private venue."_ And Loki heard the faint sound of the door reopening and some of their footsteps echoing down the hall.

Loki was left alone with his not-so-private thoughts. _Is she still listening? How much can she hear?_ He tried to keep his mind from reeling back to his anger and pain, but it naturally went to its habitual memory of late, no matter how many times he redirected it.

 _The space rock was barren, devoid of any type of life. Loki was dragged across its craggy gray surface by two Chitauri guards until he was unceremoniously dumped at the foot of a floating golden throne. He rose to his knees, but could get no further, his body too weak and his magic focused on healing his most intense injuries first._

"So, Son of Odin," _the great, deep voice of the Destroyer of Worlds rumbled around him._ "Have you finally given proper thought to my generous bargain?"

 _Loki's throat worked as he attempted to swallow the blood pooling in his mouth. It took some effort and time, but eventually he cleared his throat to speak._

"Great King of Death," _he replied, his words coming out coarse and gravelly from screams of pain past._ "My wish is but to serve you." _He had held out for a very long time, but thousands of treatments with the scepter, even in unskilled hands, had left him weak, and the constant torture had driven him to wish above all to escape the pain. Even in his weakened state, though, his mind was constantly scheming and planning for escape,_

"Good," _Thanos descended from his throne to stand before Loki's kneeling form._ "I have great plans for you, Son of Odin, for you were born to be a king. You will take Midgard for your own use, and you will send the Tesseract back to me. Together we shall reclaim the mighty power of the Space Gem from the mortals who are unworthy to seek its enlightenment. We will reset the universe in its proper order. "

 _Loki only stared at him as he spoke._ You fool, _he thought,_ I will run the moment I am free. You will not get your Space Gem, and you will not find me, not for the rest of my days. You plan is bound to ruin and you are a madman, spurred by your insanity… _Loki's thoughts trailed off as the scepter was brought into view and presented to Thanos by an underling._

 _Thanos spoke dark words of persuasion and power over the scepter that sent shivers along Loki's skin. When he was done, Thanos looked at him and smiled._ "Son of Odin, I can see your heart through your defiant eyes. You think yourself above me, and you wish to run away." _He turned the scepter to Loki's chest._ "I hereby grant you this weapon, that you may be victorious over those pitiful mortals of Midgard. I grant you my Chitauri army, that you may lay waste the that mortal world and rebuild it in your own image. And lastly," _the point of the scepter pierced the thin fabric of Loki's torn tunic, directly above his heart,_ "I grant you my will, that all this may be accomplished according to my wishes. For I am Thanos, Seeker of Death, and I will not be thwarted by the likes of you." _The last thing Loki clearly remembered was a blue flash before his world faded to chaos and desire for destruction._

 _ **A/N: So there you have it. I've been so excited to get to this point of the story that I had to slow myself down to try and do justice to Steve. Who will still be a crucial part of this story, by the way.**_

 _ **Let me know what you think of this so far by rating and reviewing!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	3. Chapter 3: S Planning

They followed Fury down the hall and into the same conference room from the night before. Darren found them in the hallway on the way there, and he fell in line with a greeting for Eleanore, Steve, and his father. The crowded into the room, standing this time. Fury was at the head of the table, and the rest of them were gathered to one side, forming a tight oval. Thor stood closest to Fury, with Steve behind him. Tony leaned an arm against one of the chairs next to the table, Romanov and Barton beside him, and Eleanore and Darren stood closest to the door. Bruce was reportedly still asleep, exhausted from his extended Hulk phase the day before.

"I assume this is far enough?" the director asked Eleanore, and she nodded. "Then I'd like to get back to our earlier discussion."

"There is nothing to discuss," Thor insisted. "The Tesseract must take us to Asgard and remain there."

"Thor, don't you think you're being a little stubborn?" Eleanore inquired, her voice accusing, antagonistic. The Asgardian looked at her in surprise and dawning anger.

"I think I am being correct," he growled. The energy in the room started crackling as Thor moved his hand to grip the hammer at his belt.

"It's not about being right or wrong," Darren spoke in a low voice, and Thor stilled to hear him. "It's about reaching a good compromise."

"What compromise is possible?" Thor demanded. "The Tesseract must return with us. You want Loki to face punishment for his crimes, do you not?"

"My opinion on that is not important right now. The fact is we're your allies, and you need to work with us," Eleanore was demanding. Unreasonable. Steve was starting to worry she would start a battle right in the room.

"Earth is under Asgard's protection. Is that not enough for you?" Thor looked like he was about to really fight one or both of them. Steve looked at Fury, who was watching the exchange with keen interest.

"It's not that we don't appreciate it," Darren chided, elbowing Eleanore gently. "It's just that Earth should have a say in what happens in the realms too. Don't you think?" It dawned on Steve that this was "Good Cop, Bad Cop" pulled off without a hitch. He settled back to let the couple handle the situation, whatever it was, and saw Tony doing the same. The billionaire had a smug smirk hiding around the corners of his mouth. _What are they planning?_

"Of course you have a say, at least in what happens here." Thor looked between his opponents, challenging them to argue.

Eleanore accepted. "Why are you taking the Tesseract then? And Loki? You come in here and have a family fight and leave us to clean up your mess."

"That is not my goal," Thor protested. "Nor my father's."

"We just want to have a say," Darren explained to him. "We want to be represented."

There was a silence and Thor looked down, absorbing their words. Steve suddenly understood what they were angling for, at least in part.

"Come to Asgard," Thor invited. "Represent yourselves there."

"When?" Eleanore demanded. "In a hundred years when you think about us again?"

"Of course not," Thor shook his head. "Come back with us tomorrow. It would be no trouble to send you home using the Tesseract."

"I'm not human," Darren held up his hands. "Humans should represent humans."

"I'll go," Eleanore volunteered. "I'll represent mutants."

Steve looked around, amazed at the change ten minutes had worked on their situation. This was better than keeping the Tesseract, it opened the way for intergalactic relations.

"Hold on," Fury stepped in. "One, this was not approved by SHIELD."

"We'll ask forgiveness later." Eleanore shrugged, and received a glare from one eye.

"Two," Fury continued, sounding more annoyed. "You're not just waltzing off to Asgard alone."

Another silence took hold of the room as they all looked at each other.

"You don't want me," Tony commented. "Even I know that would be a bad idea."

"I don't want to go," Clint added. "I've had enough adventure for a while. What about you, Nat?"

Romanov just shrugged noncommittally.

"I'll go," Steve volunteered, stepping back into the circle. He didn't like the thought of Eleanore going alone either, but more importantly he didn't want Fury to veto the ambassador plan. Talking a way to peace was something he'd never gotten to try before, not on a grand scale. He looked forward to the challenge.

"You two…" Fury sighed, and Steve wondered whether he meant Eleanore and Darren or Eleanore and Steve. "I can't keep you from going. You don't officially work for SHIELD." Something in his attitude made Steve think he secretly approved of the way things had turned out.

"Thanks, Director." Eleanore said, her tone less comabtive now that the plan was settled.

"But," Fury cautioned. "Don't you dare start something I'll have to deal with back here."

"We won't let you down," Steve promised.

"Go pack up then," Fury dismissed them. "Get some more rest. Meet back here tomorrow at O' six hundred."

They filed out of the room and into the hallway. It was late afternoon, verging on evening. Fury had given them the day to recover, and Steve wasn't tired.

"My friends," Thor exclaimed, apparently happy again after the argument. "Tomorrow we feast in Asgard!"

"And tonight they're serving curry in the cafeteria!" Clint added, coming up beside them. Tony branched off into an elevator, saying he was headed to the lab.

"Where's Jet?" Darren asked Eleanore as they walked along.

"Eating again on deck. Battle really took it out of him. Besides, he likes being a dragon as much as possible."

"Is he going tomorrow?" Natasha asked, walking up beside her.

"No," Eleanore shook her head. "Asgardians hunt dragons sometimes. He doesn't want to go. Want to teach me some stuff before supper?"

"Sure," Romanov responded, and they turned together, running up the stairs.

"Where are they going?" Steve asked Darren.

"Probably to the gym. Natasha was going to teach Elle some moves."

"Let us join them," Thor suggested. "Ladies do not train for battle on Asgard. This is most intriguing."

"Women don't fight?" Darren asked. "Don't tell Elle." The group started up the stairs after their teammates.

"Don't tell Nat either," Clint added. "Seriously, no women fight? Wasn't there one on your team in New Mexico?"

"There is one," Thor amended. "Lady Sif. She fought hard for her title."

They reached the gym and saw no sign of Eleanore or Natasha.

"Sparring ring," Darren suggested, leading them through another door and into a small room with a roped off platform. Sure enough, Natasha was strapping bracers on Eleanore's hands and giving her instructions on how to punch. They looked up when the men came in.

"What?" Eleanore asked them, and Darren shrugged.

"We wish to see our friends do battle," Thor supplied, grinning in anticipation. Eleanore and Natasha gave each other a look.

"It's true," Clint assured them. "Nothing weird."

Steve suddenly thought of the way their interest could be construed, and he felt his face heat up.

"Whatever," Eleanore stood, flexing her hands. She had removed her jacket and was wearing a sleeveless black shirt with matching tights. Her hair was tied back, and her shoes and socks were discarded near the bench, along with Romanov's.

The master assassin wore a red shirt similar to Eleanore's, and loose blue pants. She held her hand out and Elle reached into her jacket, handing her hair pins. She pinned her curls to the top of her head, then nodded and entered the ring.

Eleanore followed her, and they squared off in different fighting positions. Eleanore was taller by a few inches, and her reach was therefore longer. Romanov had the advantage of speed. Steve remembered her whirling through the air during battle, taking out alien after alien before they saw her coming.

The two women stood still for a silent moment, then Natasha struck out, catching Eleanore in a glancing blow to her cheek. Eleanore whipped her head to the side and grabbed the extended arm, twisting it and shoving the smaller woman away.

"Good," Romanov commented, standing straight. "Next time, don't let me hit you."

"Yeah, like I planned it in the first place." Eleanore's sarcasm brought a slight grin to the spy's expression.

"Here, raise your hands like this," she repositioned Eleanore's arms so one shoulder was blocking her cheek while the other was placed nearer her ear.

"You're shorter, you're going to go for my legs or abdomen," Eleanore protested. "How do I block that?"

"Men typically don't hit below the neck," Romanov explained. "But if someone tries, block with your knee and punch them in the head.

"Like this?" Eleanore mimed a motion, bringing her left knee up and uppercutting with both hands.

"Sure, or this," Romanov demonstrated another move. Steve locked both of the techniques away in his mind to try later.

"This is tiresome," Thor complained, standing and stretching. He looked at the men lining the wall, "Will one of you spar with me?"

"They're focusing," Darren pointed out. The two women had stopped and were giving Thor an annoyed look.

"I'll fight you," Natasha offered.

"Where is the honor in defeating a mortal woman?" Thor chuckled.

Steve felt his stomach clench at the chill that descended on the room. Eleanore had a look of surprise on her face that quickly morphed into disbelieving anger. Natasha chose a bland expression, maintaining eye contact with the Asgardian challenger.

"How about both of us?" she asked innocently. "Would that be more even?"

"Hardly," Thor shrugged his shoulders. "But if you insist, I will go easy on you."

Natasha and Eleanore nodded to each other and took connecting corners of the mat. Thor removed his SHIELD issue jacket to reveal a black t-shirt over blue jeans. He removed his shoes and socks, placed his hammer on the floor, and slipped a string from his pocket to tie his hair back.

"You must warn me if I hurt you," he said, climbing under the ropes. "I do not wish you harm."

"Okay," Eleanore said. "Same for you."

Thor chuckled and assumed a wrestling stance. And froze in place. An expression of grim horror dawned on the demigod's face as Steve saw his muscles flex slightly with no resulting motion. He strained harder, but Eleanore only held out her hands and stilled every advance he tried to make.

"How long can you hold him like that?" Natasha asked her, relaxing her pose and looking at her sparring partner.

"Probably all day," Eleanore answered, eyes focused on her victim. "But it's boring."

"Do you want to do the honors?"

"Why should I have all the fun?"

Natasha smiled, a genuine, pleased grin, and walked right up to Thor and around behind him. She motioned to his foot. "Will I be able to move this?"

"Be my guest."

With one swift motion, Romanov swept Thor's leg out from underneath him. He toppled like a tree.

Steve hid a smile and approached the ring, Darren and Clint behind him.

"Cheats!" Thor yelled angrily, getting up off the mat. "Who battles with such dishonor!"

"Easy," Eleanore cautioned him dryly. "We didn't cheat."

"Magic is a trick. No honorable warrior would fight that way." Thor was raging, his breath coming in quick bursts.

"Maybe not where you come from, but on Earth we use what we've got," Eleanore explained. Romanov nodded, moving to stand beside her.

"Asgardians train like men, without cheap ruses." Thor was scornful.

"Maybe that's why you lost," Eleanore smiled cheekily, and Steve got ready to leap between her and the demigod.

Thor stilled for a moment, then let out a laugh. "Perhaps so, Lady Eleanore. You may have a point." He chuckled some more, walked up to the women, and bowed. "I concede. The warriors of Earth are truly forces to be reckoned with."

"Want to try it, no powers?" Eleanore offered as a treaty of peace. "You'll win, probably, that way."

"Nay, but may I train with you?" Thor asked. "This defensive tactic is not one we use at home."

Eleanore looked to Natasha, who nodded. "Of course."

"Most excellent!"

"Want to get some targets in?" Clint asked Darren as the three combatants started throwing punches again.

"Sure. Steve?" Darren looked at him questioningly, and Steve nodded.

"Got any pistols, or is it all long range?"

"There's everything," Clint assured him, a reverent tone creeping into his voice. "I helped design it."

The range was impressive, with still and moving targets for every distance possible. Darren took a rifle off the locked shelf, and Steve chose his usual gun. Clint picked up three different kinds of bows and went to town on a range with targets that jumped up randomly at different points.

They spent the next hour shooting with silencers, having various contests to see who was the most accurate on different challenges. Clint won every time, never switching from his weapon of choice, but Steve and Darren kept it interesting by vying for second place. The younger man was better at long distance shots, and Steve was used to close motion shooting.

At nine o'clock Thor entered, loudly requesting their presence at supper. They put away their weapons and followed him to the cafeteria where Eleanore and Natasha were already collecting their food from the buffet.

After a meal filled with laughter, Eleanore and Darren left to go to bed. The rest of the team disbanded, and Steve walked with the couple back to the dormitory hall, where they both turned and entered Eleanore's room. He cataloged that in his mind as _None Of My Business._

He entered his own room and dressed in his sleeping clothes, sinking gratefully into the mattress and thinking about the next day. Thor had invited them, yes, but his parents might have no idea they were going to show up. Steve made a mental note to ask Thor about that in the morning. Besides being unexpected guests, Steve knew that he and Eleanore would be entering into a culture completely different from their own. If Thor's statements about honor were any indication, this was a warrior society, and possibly one not interested in negotiations and alliances with a world full of 'mortals'.

Steve thought over possible scenarios, from their visit being met with hostility from the very beginning, to being invited to a feast and placed in seats of honor. He wondered if everyone in Asgard was as loud as Thor, and winced at the idea of a room full of such people shouting over each other.

A knock sounded on his door, startling him from his musings. He rose quickly and pressed the button that opened the door and found Eleanore standing on the other side.

"Hey," she whispered. "Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure," Steve mimicked her tone and stepped back, allowing her to dart around him into the dark room.

"Could you close the door?"

"Yeah," Steve complied, confused. The light from the hallway was gone, leaving them in near-darkness.

"You can turn on the light if you want," Eleanore spoke at a normal volume again. He did, and found her standing near his chair, where his torn and bloody uniform still lay.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, moving the clothing aside and pulling out the chair so she could sit down.

"Yes and no," she seated herself, pulling the chair close to the bed. Steve took the hint and sat on the mattress, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I just wanted to talk some things over with you."

"About our trip tomorrow?" he grinned, and she smiled back.

"You nervous?" Steve asked, noticing how she kept fidgeting.

"Agitated," she corrected him.

"Me too," he felt the tightness in his chest, and tried unsuccessfully to sigh it away. "What makes you… agitated about it?"

"The transportation," Eleanore admitted. "When they beam us up, we could be blasted to particles of nothing."

"Hadn't thought about that one," Steve pictured his life ending in a blue flash, killed by the cube he'd risked his life twice to get back.

"And then there's the parents," Eleanore continued. "Odin doesn't sound like a nice or understanding guy. Thor talks about him a lot with love, but he just sounds like a stubborn old man."

"Try not to let those feelings show when we meet them," Steve grinned at her judgment. "If we get there alive, that is."

"Right. Because I'm so good at acting. What are you going to wear tomorrow?"

The change threw Steve for a second, and he thought about it quietly. His suit was not in good shape, and he only had casual clothing. "Everyday clothes, I guess."

"That's all I have here too," Eleanore shrugged. "Oh well. Thor said that the women there all wear dresses, so they'll probably be so surprised to see one in pants that they won't even look at you."

"There's a female warrior on Thor's team," Steve commented, remembering he earlier discussion and the images from he debriefing packet. "I think she wears pants."

"I guess that plan's a bust, then."

"Borrow something from Natasha," Steve suggested.

"Nothing she has would fit me," Eleanore shrugged. "Too tall, and we're not the same size."

"Normal clothes should be fine, anyway," he didn't care much about appearance, then wondered if he should find an army uniform to wear. He discarded the idea after considering the time constraints. He did want to sleep some tonight.

As though echoing his thoughts, Eleanore yawned and sighed, stretching and leaning back in the chair. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "Are you as tired as I am?"

"Probably not," Steve grinned at the eye-rolling he received.

"But I should still let you sleep," Eleanore cracked her knuckles and sighed.

"I'd probably stay awake for a while anyway," Steve admitted.

"Do you often have trouble sleeping?" Eleanore asked in a nonchalant manner, but Steve read concern hiding beneath her acting.

"Not too much, just thinking about tomorrow will keep me up." He didn't want pity, and no medicine would help anyway. No use in worrying her for something that was unavoidable.

"I have the same problem, sometimes," Eleanore nodded. "It's mild anxiety. It runs in my family. My mom has it too, and so did my grandma."

"I didn't know that," Steve was surprised at the admission. "Is it bad?"

"I just worry a lot, especially when I get tired."

"What do you worry about?"

"You want the full list, or just some examples?" she smiled ruefully.

"Whichever," Steve didn't want to pry, but he was genuinely curious.

"Me grades, money, Jet, you, Darren, my future, my past, the future of the mutant race, what will happen if I go public with my powers, my mom, my career…" she trailed off, meeting Steve's gaze. "Your turn."

"For what?"

"Telling me your worries," Eleanore raised an eyebrow at him. "And don't brush them off. I won't tell anyone you're crazy for insomnia."

"I…" Steve was trying to decide what to tell her. "I remember the war. Killing people." The was usually enough of an explanation to turn most people away. He could see the aversion in their faces— they didn't want a super soldier melting down in front of them. Eleanore and Darren were the only people so far who had really wanted to hear his memories. He usually told them the good ones.

"What else?"

"This time. Sometimes I dream I'm back in the forties, and it's hard to go back to sleep when I wake up."

"Are they nightmares?"

"Not most of the time. They're good dreams, most of them."

"It must be hard to wake up," Eleanore nodded sympathetically. They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in thought.

"Sometimes I dream I died," Steve admitted, suddenly wanting to tell her everything. "And everyone's going along with their lives and I'm watching it happen."

"How often is that?"

"Less now," Steve shrugged, gazing at the floor. "It was worse when I first woke up." _Now instead of every night, they're just most nights._

Eleanore didn't answer, and Steve glanced up and saw her chewing her lip, thinking. _Great, now she's going to hold me away from battle._

"I dream that people I love die," she spoke up, startling Steve. "It's not that bad, I just wake up and realize it's not true."

"How often?"

"Most nights. It's how I wake up in the morning a lot." She shrugged, taking a deep breath. "But enough about that. There's one more thing I wanted to talk to you about.

"What's that?" Hearing her admit to her inner demons made Steve feel better about his own.

"I think Loki should face rehabilitation, not punishment."

"Yeah?" Steve wasn't too surprised about that. She had made her opinion on the state of the demigod's mental health pretty clear. She'd asked Fury to let her heal him when they'd left the first meeting, and upon being denied she'd frowned and cited the rules of war. Fury had rolled his good eye and sighed, and she'd given up with a scowl.

"Yeah. So I'm going to talk to his parents about that. I thought you should know."

"I'll support you," Steve replied, "But I don't know how much they'll listen."

"We can worry about that later," Eleanore told him, yawning again.

"You should go get some sleep now," Steve suggested, noting the circles forming under her eyes.

"I should call my mom," Eleanore stood suddenly as the idea occurred to her. "Are you going to go to sleep?"

"Going to try," Steve shrugged and stood as she made for the door. "Have a good night."

"You too," she smiled at him. "See you tomorrow."

Steve let the door shut and turned the light off, feeling his way back to his bed and lying down. With all the new things to worry about, he doubted he'd get much sleep, although he felt tired. He lay awake for half an hour, and heard Eleanore talking as she walked past his door to get back to her room.

"Okay Mom. Love you too." A burst of calm washed over Steve, and he felt himself relaxing, even though he knew The feeling wasn't his own. He couldn't bring himself to care, though, when he felt more tranquil than he had since waking up in 2012. Feeling better overall, he drifted into a sleep filled with dreams of a red dress, with matching lips, the laughter of old friends and new, of Eleanore talking to a young Peggy and the two of them laughing, and Darren discussing science with his grandfather, and the feeling that, there, he did belong.

 ** _A/N: This chapter gave me a headache to write. I think it turned out okay, but I'd love to hear what you people think of it as well. Remember, reviews and ratings feed my soul!_**

 ** _~PettyWhiteRose_**


	4. Chapter 4: L Meeting and Leaving

Loki was kept busy trying to keep his memories at bay, lest the little mind-seer look into his thoughts. He did not keep track of the time, and only looked knew that at least a full day had passed when his door opened and Thor entered the small, windowless room. He stood in regal glory, his armor cleaned and polished, his red cape flowing with each movement, and his demeanor well-rested and fully healed.

Thor paused and just _looked_ at him, and Loki imagined what a sight he must make, shackled to a metal chair, gagged, in the same dirt and armor from the battle. Thor's blue eyes searched Loki's own, and he finally sighed and spoke.

"Brother, arrangements have been made to take you to Asgard to face justice for your crimes. We leave within the day." And with that, he swept from the room, not bothering to look back.

Loki pondered this before discarding it as _not important._ He could hear Thor's boots thunking down the hall for some time after he had left, and after a short time they returned, along with the brown-haired water witch. Loki sent a special glare at her, followed by anger and thoughts of malice. He threw in some heinous thoughts specifically for _her_ that ought to have sent her into hysterics if she was truly reading his mind. Instead, she looked calmly at him and stood back while Thor undid Loki's shackles from the chair.

"Stand, Brother." Thor ordered, pulling Loki up by his right arm.

"Easy," the witch cautioned, moving to stand on Loki's other side. Loki looked closely at her. She was young, even younger than he, if he translated his Asgardian age to Midgardian years. She stood at Thor's shoulder, taller than the Widow woman, but much shorter than Loki himself. She had long chestnut hair that was tied back in a braid and further kept with a white band around her head, and she wore a gray tunic, blue pants of some unknown material that appeared common on Midgard, and brown leather boots that scuffed quietly when she walked. She held herself with an air of confidence that could translate to authority or arrogance in other situations, looking both of the men before her directly in the eye. Her eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the room they looked very dark indeed. A leather pack was slung over her shoulder and she kept adjusting its strap as she stood next to the God of Thunder.

"Here," she addressed Loki as Thor was unlocking his legs, moving a bit closer to him and holding out one hand. "I'll heal you a bit."

Loki just glared at her, not bothering to hide any of his loathing.

"Come on," she said, and laid a gentle hand on his arm. Loki was held fast still by the chains at his feet, and he refused to fall undignifiedly in an attempt to twitch away. Nevertheless, he vowed to return and make this mortal or her descendants suffer for this insult one day.

That was, until he felt a warming sensation that traveled quickly from his arm to his chest, and blossomed outward, removing some pain wherever it landed. His collarbone knitted first, not completely but enough to take away much discomfort. Then came his leg, and the bewitchment even moved to his head, and Loki began to feel his mind clear a fraction as this peculiar magic worked. Still, he wanted this she-witch to stop touching his royal person, and the moment Thor was done removing his legs from the chair Loki quickly stepped away from her, pondering how much Thor would hurt him if he lashed out.

"Careful, Lady Eleanore," Thor warned the wench, who only looked amused. "Loki is still stronger by far than a Midgardian man."

"Okay Thor," this _Eleanore_ replied, smiling at him and finally at Loki. _Mocking damsel._ "Let's get him to the launch site."

The trip was made in a large, black Midgardian vehicle with tinted shieldings where the windows should have been. Loki was seated in the back of this with Thor alone, as the two of them took up as much room as three humans would have. The _witch_ sat in front of Thor, behind yet another clear partition that Loki supposed was for her protection. A nervous young agent drove them through the city, the buildings blocking out the early morning sunlight. The vehicle itself emitted a purring noise that strengthened to a growl as they got underway, growing louder and softer with their speed. To Loki, it was a grating sound, like the growl of the Chitauri dungeon master, and he tensed up each time it increased.

Their drive was not long, however, and they soon disembarked in the middle of a paved courtyard walled on one side by trees where the rest of the so-called Avengers stood in waiting. Loki received glares from each one of them, but especially from the one called Hawkeye, who fingered a knife at his belt and looked at Loki like a piece of dead meat. The Captain and the young sorcerer were the least hostile, if Loki was rating them on a scale. Now that Loki had a better chance to see him in person, the young man looked vaguely familiar, though there was no way to place him in the cloudy, crowded huddle of his thoughts. Both the Captain and the magician came forward and spoke to the woman in low voices as soon as she stepped out of the horseless carriage.

Through the foliage Loki glimpsed people running and walking leisurely, and he assumed that they must be near a park. The buildings around them looked undamaged. The Chitauri must not have gotten this far.

"Agent Engman," the Captain greeted the sorceress much more professionally than he had the day before. He wore plain mortal clothing; a brown jacket of leather, a checkered tunic, leggings of the same blue material as the witch, and brown shoes. Then he nodded to Thor and fell behind him to escort Loki to the middle of the flagstone clearing.

"Be careful. You don't even have to go, you know," the young sorcererspoke low and… _lovingly_ , Loki thought, as he and the woman followed after the Captain and Thor. Loki was still trying to place the man's magic and his face. It tugged on his memory in an almost-formed thought that refused to shape. "Steve knows what you want. He can see to i—"

"Don't be ridiculous." Her voice took a more loving tone as well, but still maintained its ring of authority. "Steve isn't going alone, and neither am I. We've been invited, and it would be rude to decline. Besides," she smiled at her young man, "I'll be back soon, and that's where your work can begin. Invent some stuff for me while I'm gone."

"I will." The boy's face grew deathly serious, and he pulled the sorceress into a tight embrace. "Just come back safe," he whispered. Loki gazed around, noting how the others' expressions seemed to soften at the display of affection, while Stark looked on with what seemed to be pride. _When I return for my revenge, I will first target the man, and then his woman._

As the couple parted, Thor cleared his throat. "My friends, it is time we depart. Good Captain and Lady Eleanore, to me." So saying, Thor turned to a nondescript man in a black suit who was carrying a black case that _hummed_ with untapped power. Loki was not surprised when Thor pulled the Tesseract out of it, encased in some metal and clear barriers.

"Brother," he said, turning to Loki, who knew his part and grabbed the other end of the casement. "Captain, Lady." Loki's eyes widened in surprised as the other two placed their hands on top of Thor's. _Surely he jests… they cannot travel with us. Has he gone mad? They will die, or be left on Asgard forever._

Thor looked at Loki's expression and laughed, "The measurements have been made, Brother, and the Captain and Lady are guests of the house of Odin. He will ensure their safety, along with Heimdall. They have much to discuss, as the affairs of Midgard are now and forever connected to Asgard." Loki rolled his eyes. _Mere mortals will not survive this journey, Thor._ But this was of no consequence to him. If they died due to Thor's carelessness, so be it.

The witch and the Captain exchanged almost-nervous glances, and the leader of the Avengers stepped closer to the woman. "We're ready."

"Very well. Farewell for now, my shield-brothers. May fortune shine greatly upon you!"

With that enthusiastic salute, Thor turned the handle to release the Tesseract's power, and Loki's world was lost in colors and light.

His eyes refocused on the mortals' huddled figures a moment later as he gained his footing on a smooth surface. The water witchling was leaning into the Captain's chest, and he'd pulled her close to his body in a panicked embrace. They were both looking outward, as though to face their doom as it approached. _Not,_ Loki mused, _that that would have saved them, if the Tesseract had spit them out during the trip._ He pictured them spinning endlessly through the void, never aging, left in an eternity of darkness and confusion. _If only…_

"We have arrived, my friends." Thor said, gently extricating the Tesseract's vessel from their hands. Loki looked around, noting that they were on the lifeless Rainbow Bridge where it connected Asgard's land with the void. The gates stood open and behind them the citadel loomed large, closing them in on one side with golden light, while the other side was lost to a lack of color where the only the stars and galaxies brought order to the undisguised chaos. The time was around midmorning, the sun casting an angled glow on the city and the travelers alike.

The Captain and the sorceress had separated, but they still stayed close to each other as they gaped at their surroundings. The woman absently reached behind her and dug into her bag, hand emerging with a small black device that made a chiming noise as she powered it up. It was square and shiny, a lens a bit like a small telescope pointing out of its front. She raised it a little, and looked to Thor who nodded. Then she began pointing the lens at the city and the bridge and pressing a button on the top. The device made tiny clicking noises, and Loki guessed that this was a Midgardian way of capturing still images.

"Incredible," Loki heard the blond man mutter under his breath. He was staring at the end of the bridge, down into the void where Loki had fallen. The woman stayed silent, her eyes darting around and drinking everything in.

"Father has sent a party to greet us," Thor observed. And indeed, there was a riding party galloping toward them, with palace guards and extra horses for the travelers. Loki even identified his own horse, Amund. Seeing him sent a pang through Loki's heart, but he held himself aloof from the emotion until it faded into the background.

Thor greeted the guards, and they dismounted and bowed to the golden prince and his companions, pointedly ignoring Loki.

"My Lord," said the leader of the guards after the formal greetings had taken place, "Your father, Odin King, requests your presence in the Throne Room immediately."

"And what of the prisoner?" Thor inquired coldly, regaining his air of leadership and poise completely as the mantle of Crown Prince fell once again, invisibly, around his shoulders.

"The King has decreed that he shall await his sentence in the dungeon. A cell has been equipped specially for him." The guard did not look at Loki, maintaining his gaze on the three in front of him.

"Very well," Thor said. "My friends, shall we away?"

"Um, yes." The Captain actually looked a bit nervous as he approached the horse the guards led out for him. He swung into the saddle with no trouble, however, and soon his balance matched that of a novice, at least.

"Sidesaddle?" the woman, Lady Eleanore, asked from where she'd been scratching her horse's neck and ears. It was an older palace stallion, and Loki knew him from his gray coat and calm demeanor. Many novice riders had been placed on this horse's back. The mortal woman seemed comfortable with petting the animal, but eyed the saddle distastefully.

"It is customary for ladies to ride so," Thor said, walking up to her. "Allow me to assist you."

Loki smirked as well as he could behind the gag, thinking of Sif who hadn't ridden traditionally in over a thousand years.

"Alright," she replied, eyeing the offending equipment. She put her foot in Thor's offered hand and was mounted quickly. Loki heard her whisper, "I think I'll fall off this way if we go faster than a walk."

Thor only grinned up at her, "Never fear. The horse will not let you fall." At this, she smiled a bit ruefully and shrugged.

Lastly, Thor unlocked the chains connecting Loki's leg shackles, and offered to help Loki onto Amund after the horse had gently nuzzled his former prince. Loki ignored the affection and the assistance and swung gracefully to his place in the saddle, taking the reins in his cuffed hands and setting off with his head held high. Never mind the discomfort from his injuries; that was minor compared to the damage his pride would take at receiving help form he guards he had formerly commanded. Thor and the guards quickly mounted up and followed, forming a ring around Loki while the Captain and the witch followed side by side, one guard stationed behind them to bring up the rear.

The ride to the castle was direct and scenic, as it went through the main marketplace and public gardens, ending at the main palace gate. The road was crowded with the usual morning traffic, though everyone pulled to the side and made way for the Prince and his entourage. Faces turned smiling to Thor, some even laughing a greeting, and freezing when they saw Loki in his muzzle and chains. He ignored them, staring straight ahead and did not see the expressions the Midgardians drew.

They reached the palace gates in a short time, and the leader of their guard pulled them to a halt in front of the main entrance.

"This is where we leave you, Sire," he told Thor. "My orders are to escort the prisoner to his cell." Thor nodded at him and the other guards, and Loki was surrounded again, the rear guard taking Thor's place.

"My comrades, welcome to Asgard." Loki could hear Thor's declarations and enthusiasm as he was led around to the far side of the palace. Loki knew where they were headed, and so he was prepared when the guards stopped.

He dismounted with them, allowing them to surround him once more as they led him over to a patch of cobblestone in the shade of the castle walls. The guard in front stamped his foot three times in succession on the ground, and with a scraping, noise the secret dungeon entrance was revealed. It was a staircase that led deep into the ground under the palace. Loki had explored it many times before in his youth, when wandering away from Thor and his raucous group, or making mid-night exploits when he was bored. It was expected for future kings to know the grounds of their palace, but Thor had never been much for divining secrets. Thus, Loki was certain his not-brother knew little of this entrance.

The guards took him down the stairs to a dark hallway where cells were made of clear magic to contain the more dangerous criminals. Energy thrummed around Loki, and the magic suppressed inside him turned his stomach as it responded to the call of like to like.

 _If only I could be free of these shackles and harness that energy,_ Loki thought wistfully as they stopped outside a barren cell with yellow walls. This cage must have been made specially for him, as the magic was too strong here to hide from even mortal vision.

Unbidden, a brief flash of memory brought Loki before the golden throne of Thanos.

 _This was the first of many times the self-proclaimed courter of Death had called Loki forth to offer a bargain. Loki had been treated relatively well, his wounds healed, and he had only been on the rock for a short time._

" _So, Odinson," Thanos began, his voice graveling against Loki's ears. "It seems fate has brought us together."_

Abruptly, Loki's vision cleared and he was back in the same dark hallway, the confused guards flanking him, calling his name.

"Prince Loki, enter the cell," the lead guard intimated, and from his tone Loki knew he'd said these words before. He nodded and walked through the collapsed magic wall. His bindings stayed on as it sealed behind him, and he wondered how long they would keep him chained like an animal. His wonderings were answered as the wall reappeared and his shackles vanished into thin air.

Finally fully mobile, Loki turned his head to take in his surroundings. Furniture appeared as soon as the barrier was completely sealed, silently placing itself with a small burst of energy. A bed, small by Asgardian standards but still luxuriously soft-looking, was covered by a dark green blanket and a couple of similar pillows. Two or three books Loki recognized from his personal library stood on a small table next to a tray of food and water. The room was otherwise bare, the back wall and floor an opaque white instead of the shimmering yellow of the restrictive magic.

Thinking of magic, Loki reached for his own, only to find it slipping out of his grasp. He could still feel his ability, but he lacked control over it. It was like being a child again, learning from his mother— Frigga— how to bend and shape the power to his will. _Frustrating. But not unexpected._

Sighing slightly, but otherwise outwardly calm, Loki ventured over to the bed and gingerly lowered himself onto it. Much of the pain was gone, thanks to the water witch's healing, and he was left only with a faint soreness and some sharp discomfort in his leg. That and his collarbone were still not fully healed, nor were many of the scrapes and bruises he'd endured. Loki regretted that, as it made him look more pitiful and defeated than he ever wanted to appear. Especially before Odin and Frigga.

 _But perhaps it will play on their sympathies,_ he thought, settling back onto the mattress and closing his eyes. If nothing else, Loki was known for his base manipulation and opportunistic nature. When he was dealt a bad hand, he learned to play his opponents so they believed he had won. While it had not granted him many friends on Asgard, it had kept him and Thor alive over the years, and all of their adventures had only served to improve Loki's skill. If Odin wanted a defeated, humble political gambit to return, Loki would meet him with resistance, pride, and power. As soon as the shackles were removed outside of the cell, he planned on teleporting away to hidden portals to other realms, and there hiding from the House of Odin and Thanos alike. His favorite part about this plan was its unspecific nature. Anyone could follow a detailed plot, but it took improvisation to set people back, shock them, and make them drop their guard.

 _Let them come,_ the words drifted triumphantly through his mind as he felt himself falling asleep for the first time in several weeks, only the faint hum of magic keeping him company.


	5. Chapter 5: S Negotiating

Steve and Eleanore stayed close as Thor led them through enormous halls and stately pavilions, all open to the air and all carved from what looked like marble. People dressed in strange— to Steve— clothing stopped and stared at them, and he could hear whispers following them through the vaulted passages.

"Thor," Eleanore whispered once they'd reached an empty hallway. "Hang on a sec."

"What is it?" Thor stopped and looked at her with impatient concern. Steve guessed he must be eager to see his parents again, and tell them he'd brought his brother home.

"When we meet your— the king and Queen," Eleanore stepped closer to him and lowered her voice even more. "How are we supposed to greet them? What's the etiquette here? I'm not wearing a skirt so I can't curtsy." Steve had been trying to figure out what was different about her face since he'd seen her that morning. He stared at her until it occurred to him. _Makeup._ It was subtle, but it made her eyes look bigger and darker. Steve felt satisfied to have finally figured it out.

"Ah," Thor nodded sagely. "An excellent question. Visitors from other realms use their own forms of greeting. I was made aware of the hand-shake in my time on Midgard. That will be sufficient. This meeting is, I think, to be held privately in my father's study." He turned and started to walk again, before halting. "And hand your bags to the next servants we see."

"Oh," was all Eleanore said, looking thoughtful, and Thor grinned and started to lead them again. Steve was glad she'd asked because he hadn't even thought of that, as concerned as he was with the people staring at them. No matter how long he was Captain America, it still made him uncomfortable. Thor found a worker in the next hallway and had them take Steve and Eleanore's bags to their rooms.

The rest of the journey was short, and Steve noticed that the doors they walked through grew more ornate as they went in toward the center of the palace. Murals depicting Thor and Loki, along with many other warriors, old and young, were splashed across the walls in a variety of battle scenes against mythical creatures and enemies. Steve caught the gist: Asgard was a warrior society that valued strength and honor above all else.

A couple of flights of stairs and about a mile of walking later, and Thor finally halted in front of a small set of dark wooden doors that had two elaborately clad guards stationed, one of each side. They moved to open the doors and Steve followed Thor into the room, Eleanore walking beside him.

It was more like a library than a study, with books lining two of the walls and a set of chairs meant for lounging set around a fireplace. Two silent, staring ravens perched on stands that sat on either side of the desk, and in front of that impressive piece of furniture stood a man Steve recognized from the murals outside, along with a beautiful woman. Odin had Steve's attention, but Frigga drew his eye as memories of his mother started flashing through his mind. He tore his eyes away from her kind face and forced himself to focus on the man Thor was introducing them to first.

"My friends, this is Odin Allfather, King of Asgard." Steve walked up to Frigga and held out his hand, since Elle was already moving toward Odin. The Queen shook it firmly without hesitation. "And Frigga Allmother, Queen of Asgard."

"Pleased to meet you ma'am," Steve greeted Frigga. The Queen wore a stately golden dress with matching jewelry in her hair and on her fingers.

"This is Lady Eleanore, a warrior and healer." They switched places so Eleanore could greet Frigga.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." Her informal greeting and genuine smile earned her a look of satisfaction from the Queen.

"It is an honor to meet the woman who has healed both my sons," Frigga's proclamation brought confusion to Eleanore's expression, but she shrugged.

"I only really healed one of them."

"Father, this is the Captain of America. A most honorable warrior, and my shield-brother." Thor sounded proud, and Steve wondered if it was for his father or for him.

"Greetings," Odin bade him. "It is an honor to meet you Captain." Odin wore light armor that reminded Steve of Thor's, only with some gold and a dark red cape.

Introductions over, they stood for a moment before Frigga gestured to the cushioned seats. "Will you sit with us?"

Steve nodded, and he and Eleanore followed the incomplete family to the set of six chairs. Steve couldn't help thinking of Loki, whose place was obvious and remained empty. Odin took the chair to the left of the fire and Frigga sat next to him. Thor placed himself next to the empty seat in the middle, and Eleanore and Steve sat side by side across from the king and Queen.

"Now," Frigga continued after they had settled in. "What would you wish to discuss?"

Steve could feel her placing the ball in their court, both out of politeness and as a test. For the first time, he realized that this visit could be construed as a way to ask Asgard for money to atone for the damage and to aid in relations. He felt uncomfortable.

"I'd like to know what's going to happen to Loki," Eleanore spoke up decidedly, either not feeling Steve's apprehension or not caring. She always got right to the point, so it wasn't too much of a shock that she'd immediately brought up the subject she'd been most concerned about. What threw Steve off was her attitude, which was on-edge and challenging. It made him uneasy just to look at her.

"We have yet to decide on a fitting punishment," Odin admitted, his face falling into a scowl. "One that will teach my wayward son his place. For now he will remain locked in the dungeon with no contact, that he may think about his crimes."

"Well, that won't work," Elle looked from him to Frigga and back, getting bemused expressions from both. "You know that won't work, don't you? Haven't you tried it before?" Steve stopped himself from gaping at her, but he did turn to watch her speak. She was in earnest, raising her eyebrows and going into full information mode.

Odin was not amused at being contradicted. "What business is it of yours what I do with my son?"

"He attacked my home," Eleanore pointed out, not bothering to hide her matter-of-fact tone. She hated repeating obvious facts, for the most part, and she hated when people tried to change her mind. She'd told Steve that once, when a telemarketer wouldn't let her off the phone until she claimed to have died of boredom. Now she was getting into an argument not with a harmless person's voice, but with a live king who could have her thrown back to Earth in a heartbeat.

"And he committed atrocities here as well," Odin told her. He was irritated, and Steve tensed.

"Yeah, and when you've punished him before, how well did that teach him a lesson? It's in our mythology, and Thor said some of it is true." Eleanore shifted to the edge of her seat, clearly wanting to stand and pace. Steve didn't know whether to butt in or let her talk. "But it doesn't matter what he did, at least not at this point."

"Lady Eleanore, he killed your people," Thor cut in, looking at her in pure shock. Steve guessed that no one had ever spoken to his father that way in front of him before.

"Well, he killed some." Eleanore nodded. "But I want to talk about the root of the problem first. Mind control."

"Mind control?" Odin almost laughed. "You underestimate Loki's stubbornness."

"And you underestimate how awful he looked when he got to Earth. He was clearly tortured. I have the video here," she pulled out her cell phone.

"You may show us your primitive magic later," Odin dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Eleanore visibly bristled. Steve hoped she was about to bring this pompous old man down a level, to hell with the consequences.

She did not disappoint. "Do you want to hear my ideas, or do you want to pat us on the head like good little children and send us back to Earth?"

Her question brought Odin upright in his chair, and he stared at her with one good eye. "You dare speak to a sovereign in this manner?"

"I guess so," Eleanore shrugged, and Steve bit back a smile.

"Look," he spoke up, wanting to help, seeing that Eleanore had been pretty much right in her pre-assessment of Odin the night before. "We would just like to have a— a conversation about what will happen to Loki. We have to worry about his revenge, after all."

Asgard's king narrowed his eye, turning his attention to Steve. "Loki will be held prisoner, no matter his punishment."

"That still doesn't resolve the issue," Eleanore protested.

"The issue is in my family," Odin stated, his voice carrying a note of finality. "We will resolve it here."

"Resolve wherever you want, but for god's sake, open your mind." Steve was about to stop her because she was being much more antagonistic than conversational.

"My mind is none of your concern."

"Look, can I just talk for a minute?" Eleanore raised her hands. "I'll tell you what I see as the problem, and then I'll be done. You can talk to Steve for the rest of the visit, and I won't say a word."

"You have the title of guest in my home," Odin growled, and Steve heard the undertone _for now…_ "I will hear your voice."

"Thanks." Elle took another breath, and her words sped up. "I think Loki needs a place to heal, and a prison or punishment on Asgard isn't the place to do that. I mean, he's going to outlive all the Avengers by a _long_ time. There's no quick fix besides execution that will keep Earth safe if he wants revenge. And I asked Thor. He doesn't think Loki will be put to death, which I think is good because he really was under the influence of that scepter. Facts to back that up: He and one of ours both had the strong emotional reactions associated with the scepter's control. A discussion between our team got out of hand because of that glowy stick. Around the scepter, whatever anyone felt was amplified, whether it was focus, anger, fear, or sadness. In my opinion, neither our agent or Loki himself were acting under Loki's will. Why? Because they both did things that they would never have done before. Thor talked to us about Loki this morning at breakfast, and he seemed to think he'd gone insane. Not far from the truth. Loki was carrying out someone else's will, someone who gave him the Chitauri army. Conclusion? He was sent to fight and gauge Earth's strength, possibly getting the Tesseract back." She stopped and looked at Steve, "Okay, I'm done."

"This is all hearsay," Odin muttered. Thor was looking back and forth between his father and his guests with a somber expression. Steve was absorbing all the information that Elle had apparently been thinking about since who-knew-when. He'd known she'd wanted to help the family heal, but this was incredible. She was also acting differently from her usual calm self-assuredness. Steve hadn't seen her this agitated before, not even when he got emotional, or when she argued with Tony.

"And how do you see that? Their feelings?" Frigga asked, and her voice alone diffused some of the tension that was building. Eleanore was still as taut as a tripwire, but Odin sat back in his chair and contemplated her, letting his Queen speak.

"I have the power to read and influence other people's emotions," Eleanore told her honestly. "Loki is… well, we study the mind on Earth, and he's not exhibiting any classical signs of insanity. It's more like his thoughts seem to get on a track, then derailed by a powerful memory associated with something."

"Interesting," Frigga leaned forward a bit. "Have you any other thoughts on the matter?" She was really engrossed in the subject, and listening to Eleanore with something like hope written on her face.

"Look, I don't claim to know all your family history," Eleanore began, holding up her hands. "But I really don't think a violent punishment is going to get you anywhere with Loki."

"And what will?" Odin challenged her, a look of satisfaction on his face. He thought he'd won with that simple question.

"Healing," Eleanore answered promptly. She'd been waiting to throw that out since her feet had touched the dark bridge, Steve could tell. She looked so excited to share what she knew with the royal family.

"It is easy enough to state a word, but what plans do you have to put it into practice?" The old king was calling for her intentions. Steve hadn't heard any plans from Eleanore the night before, only that she thought Loki should be spared and healed. Then again

"I have a number of ideas," Eleanore started. "First, I have to know some things about Asgard, though. Do you have any healers devoted to matters of emotion or the mind?"

"Emotion?" Odin did laugh, a hearty, condescending chuckle that bit through the air and into Steve's mind. "A warrior holds himself strong on and off the field."

"Okay, that's a good start," Eleanore ignored his tone. "So you don't talk to anyone about your feelings."

"No."

"That explains a lot." She looked around the room. "So that's why you think I'm crazy."

Odin stayed silent, obviously agreeing.

"Does Midgard have such healing?" Frigga asked, her tone polite.

"Yeah," Steve knew about this, and he was tired of staying silent. "It's called psychology or therapy. Trained people help patients talk through their problems." He avoided looking at Eleanore at all, not wanting these people to know that he was in such a program. It wasn't that he was ashamed, but it might make him look weak in their eyes.

"So on Earth one is not punished for murder?" Odin asked snidely.

"They are," Eleanore admitted. "But we try to find what caused them to do it."

"And where does that lead you?" Frigga asked, laying a hand on Odin's arm.

"Sometimes we can prevent the crimes. Sometimes we can help people before they do something like that. Psychology is the study of the mind, and it helps both heal victims and catch villains."

"And which do you think Loki is?" Frigga asked quietly, her hand tightening on her husband's.

"Honestly, both." Eleanore told her, her voice more gentle with the Queen. "His mind is injured, but he knows in part what he's doing. He's intelligent and cunning. I can feel it."

"What do you feel from him?"

"Hurt." Eleanore closed her eyes and sighed, and Steve remembered the hallway outside Loki's door and the emotions there. "He's sad and lonely, and so, so angry. He wears his anger like a shield to hide his uncertainty. He won't show anyone how broken he is. When he sees Thor, it's like a knife through his heart. When he sees me, it's like a brand."

"Show me," Frigga stood and offered her hand.

"I'd… rather not." Eleanore stood, but stayed by her chair.

"Why?"

"They're Loki's private emotions, and you're who made him so sad. All of you, not just you Queen Frigga." Eleanore quickly amended her generalization as the Queen's expression dropped. Steve wondered if Elle felt guilty for showing him Loki's emotions as well.

"Prove your power." Odin challenged again, standing next to his wife. "Show her what she wants to see."

"I don't answer to you," Elle informed him, and Steve stood, ready to push her out of the way if Odin took a swing. "But I'll prove my power to _her._ My way." She held out her hand. "If I may?"

"Certainly," Frigga placed her hand in Eleanore's and Elle just stared her straight in the eye.

Frigga's expression started off calm, and quickly turned into a thoughtful frown. She held Eleanore's hand tightly for a few moments in the silent room, then let her go.

"Most remarkable," was her sole comment, and she continued to watch the younger woman cautiously.

"Powers or no—" Odin began, his voice impatient.

"My dear," Frigga interrupted him. "I think we should have our guests shown to their rooms in the east wing. The hour for feasting approaches and they may want to dress." She looked meaningfully at her husband, and he sighed, shaking his head.

"As you wish."

"My friends, I will show you to your quarters," Thor stood, clearly anxious to leave the room. He'd been silent for most of the discussion, his expressions ranging from consideration to disbelief.

Eleanore and Steve followed him back out the door and into the guarded hallway. It was another long, silent walk further into the palace and up several flights of stairs into what seemed a modest passage in comparison to the grandeur of the rest of the palace. The doors were shorter, still well above head-height, and they were made of wood carved with leafy designs. The floor and walls were still marble, but patterned tapestries hung from them instead of paintings.

Thor brought them to a halt in front of two doors that stood side by side. They had baskets hanging from them full of flowers that Steve didn't recognize.

"This is where I leave you," Thor said gruffly. "Lady Eleanore, it would be best if you did not speak so freely to the king and Queen in a public setting."

"I won't," Eleanore promised, smiling up at the troubled demigod.

"Is it true, what you said?" Thor asked cautiously. "About Loki's mind?"

"Yeah, it's true."

"Do you think he can be saved?"

"Don't think of it as saving him, Thor. There's no quick fix, like I said," Eleanore's brow creased again, and she looked from Thor to Steve. "Think of it as a long-term healing that could take years."

"Years are of little consequence," Thor said seriously. "I just want to have my brother back."

"Well, he'll probably never be the same." Eleanore was honest, and Steve nodded, thinking of the torture and how it had changed Bucky back in the War. "But I'll tell you this, and I believe it from the bottom of my heart. If he doesn't get to heal, he's going to break completely."

"Thank you for your honesty," Thor nodded gravely. "You have given me much to ponder. Now, these are your rooms, Captain on the right, Lady on the left. Servants will attend you."

"Thanks," Steve grinned at him, and received a polite half-smile in return. Thor looked like he was deep in thought already.

"I will see you at the festivities," the demigod promised, and turned to walk away, his cape billowing behind him.

Steve an Eleanore were soon left alone.

"Well," Elle broke the silence. "That could have gone worse."

"I didn't know you'd thought of all that," Steve commented, thinking back to their discussion the night before.

"I don't usually say everything I'm thinking. It takes too much time."

"Oh." Peggy had been a little like that, Steve remembered, in some ways. She didn't talk about her feelings, but she did outline ideas and plans, and she definitely gave orders.

"Steve?" he looked down to find her staring at one of the tapestries.

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone else about Loki's problems. Please?" Elle was good at giving order too, but again she didn't relay her reasons.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not anyone else's business, and I don't think he'd want anyone to know."

"You care what he wants?" Steve wasn't entirely surprised, but he didn't quite understand it.

"Well, if they're going to try healing him, then they should start out with him feeling like he has some of his image still intact."

"I guess so," Steve agreed. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Thanks. When is this feast, anyway?" She settled into a more companionable attitude, and Steve once again felt like he was talking to Elle, his friend, instead of Eleanore, the living definition of sass.

"They didn't say," he looked around, hearing footsteps from the corner ahead of them. "But I think our… people are here." He didn't want to call anyone a servant.

Sure enough, a man and a woman dressed in plain clothes rounded the corner and hesitated slightly at the sight of Steve and Eleanore standing in the hallway. Eleanore turned to face them.

"My lord and lady," the woman said, rushing forward. "Are your rooms not open?" She had gray hair and her skin was wrinkled with age, but she moved with a quiet grace similar to the Queen's.

"We haven't tried them yet," Elle assured her, giving her a smile. "We were just talking."

"Understood, my lady," the woman opened Eleanore's door and held out her arm. "The feast begins quite soon, so the Queen requested I assist you with your preparations."

"Okay," Eleanore agreed, turning to Steve, "catch you on the flip side."

"Bye." The male servant also held the door for him, and Steve entered his own room.

It was large, bigger than his and Eleanore's apartments combined. The entryway curved up to meld seamlessly with the ceiling, and the ceiling drew back down to open windows with thin, filmy drapes waving in the sunny breeze. It looked to be around four o'clock in the afternoon, although Steve had no way of telling time on Asgard.

"This way, sir," the attendant motioned for him to step through into the larger room, and Steve complied.

A huge bed occupied a raised platform on the right wall, covered in blankets and furs, and a large desk with paper laid out sat opposite. There was a door next to the desk through which Steve could see a tub.

"Excuse me," he said, suddenly feeling his day full of travel and speech. "I'm just going to… Yeah."

"Will you be wearing your own clothes sir, or would you like me to choose something for you?" the man asked as Steve stepped away.

"Um, whatever you think would be fine." Steve got into the bathroom and closed the door with relief. There was something like a toilet near the far wall. Steve tested it before confirming that that was what it was.

When he opened the door again, the man was standing beside his bed, a neutral expression on his face. There was a blue tunic and brown leather pants laid out on the blankets, and boots sat on the floor.

"Does the clothing suit you?" the man asked, and Steve got tired of calling him 'the man' in his head.

"It looks fine," he assured him, "I'm Steve, what's your name?"

"Gerimond," was the surprised reply. Steve guessed that not many visitors asked he names of the servants. He had bright blond hair and blue eyes, typical of Asgardians from what Steve could tell.

"Nice to meet you," Steve didn't bother sticking out his hand, figuring it would take more time to explain the gesture than it was worth.

"You as well." Gerimond motioned to the clothing. "Would you prefer to bathe before dressing?"

"Uh, no, I think I'm good." Steve had showered the night before, and he still felt pretty clean. Then he thought the better of it. "Do people normally do that?"

"It is as you wish, sir, I am only required to ask."

"OK, and call me Steve." Gerimond nodded, and Steve wondered how likely he was to follow that order. "So… I'll get dressed."

"I can assist you, s-Steve, if that would be preferable."

"No thanks, I think I've got it." The only time Steve could remember someone helping him get dressed was the first time he'd tried on his combat Captain America suit. Both the tunic and the leather pants looked pretty self-explanatory. Much simpler than all the buckles associated with the old suit.

"Would you like anything brought to your room?" Gerimond was still standing right by the clothes, and Steve wanted him to stop waiting for him to strip.

"Yeah, could I have some…" he glanced around, noting no water or glasses in the room. "…thing to drink? Water?"

"Of course, I will return shortly." Gerimond finally left, closing the door silently behind him.

Steve quickly undressed and pulled the tunic over his head, taking a little more time with the ties on the pants. The clothing all fit surprisingly well, and he wondered if Asgard had magic closets that spit out the clothes in one's size. He felt his hair and found it smooth.

He was pulling on the boots when the door opened again to admit Gerimond.

"Sir-Steve, your lady wishes to know if you would like some etiquette lessons," he spoke quietly, carrying a tray with a pitcher and glass over to where Steve leaned against the bed.

"Sure," Steve replied, again grateful to whoever thought of it. In this case, he thought, it could have been Eleanore or the female servant. He took a long drink from the glass and felt refreshed. "But she's not _my_ lady." He thought Eleanore would be grateful for the distinction.

"Please excuse my assumption. They are still preparing, but will call upon us when they are finished," Gerimond took the tray back when Steve replaced the cup and stood still, waiting.

"Do you want to teach me some things so I'm ready for them?" It was better than awkwardly standing around.

"Certainly." Gerimond set the tray down on a nearby table and faced Steve. "What would you like to know?"

"Um, I don't know what I don't know," Steve admitted freely, feeling like he was discovering the Internet all over again. "Just show me whatever you want."

"Well, typically ladies are escorted into the feasts on the arm of a gentleman," Gerimond held his arm crooked, and Steve mimicked him. It was almost exactly like Earth's old custom. "Their dresses are… somewhat of a hazard."

Steve smiled, picturing himself tripping over Elle's skirt, or worse, tearing it. "I'll watch out for that."

"You will be seate—" Gerimond began again, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. He walked over to answer it. "My lady, please enter."

"Thank you," Elle's voice came from the doorway, but the serving woman entered first with her head held high.

Steve did a double take when Elle actually walked in. She looked… different. He'd never seen her dress up before, and it was disconcerting to try to reconcile the strong-willed, intelligent, excellent fighter he knew with this woman who looked like an Asgardian princess. She was wearing a sleeveless dress with an intricate metal bodice made of silver that curved to an end at her waist. A flowing, light gray skirt fell from there to her feet, and the material reminded Steve of flowing water every time she moved. Her hair was down, curly, and pinned back from her face by a couple of pins that matched the metal on her dress.

"Wow," he complemented, knowing she wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Sure enough, the same self-assured, happy smile broke out across her face. "I know, I love this dress! And look at the shoes," She lifted her skirt, and Steve heard the woman behind her gasp. Steve saw Elle's feet encased in some kind of low-cut, black leather boot with no heels that made little noise as she pranced around suddenly and spun. Her skirt billowed out around her in layers, and she laughed.

"That behavior is not appropriate for the banquet," the matron spoke up walking between Steve and Eleanore.

"Okay Saetta," Eleanore stopped moving, and her dress followed suit after a few seconds. She still trailed her hand through the material every so often, fidgeting, fluffing it out. Steve wondered what that material felt like. His own tunic was soft, but it didn't flow the same way her dress did.

"There is not much time," Saetta continued, her expression focused. "Let us see how you will escort her, Captain."

Steve held out his arm, and Elle walked over and gently laid her hand in the crook of his elbow. A bell sounded, and Saetta sighed.

"It would not do for you to be late to the feast. Just remember to stand straight, watch out for the skirt, and…" she trailed off, looking at both of them severely. "Humans should not partake of the mead."

"Got it," Steve nodded, wondering if Asgardian alcohol would be enough to get him drunk. Gerimond walked over and held the door open for them, and they exited into the hallway, Elle still holding his arm.

"Practice walking together as we make our way to the feasting hall," Saetta directed, walking behind them. Gerimond led, and the group made their way through empty halls with Saetta murmuring instructions behind them.

"Smaller steps Captain. Shoulders straight, Lady. Smile at each other. Talk."

"But we want to hear what you're telling us," Eleanore said over her shoulder.

"Don't look back!" Saetta exclaimed in a whisper. Elle's hand gripped his arm harder, and Steve saw her trying not to laugh.

As the descended, the hallways became more crowded, and they attracted more attention from the people around them. Saetta mercifully stopped yelling at them, and Steve tried to keep his pace slow enough that Elle could keep up in her skirt. Other couples were walking hand-in-arm like they were, and that made Steve feel less awkward about it. He'd never escorted a lady before, because his pre-serum body had not attracted them, and his post-serum body was too busy showgirling and fighting. He'd always imagined leading Peggy onto a dance floor, but he hoped there wouldn't be any dancing tonight. That train of thought left him subdued, and he relaxed his face so he wouldn't frown.

The traffic started turning in a different direction, but they kept following Gerimond as he led them to a small door near a large, open room where many tables full of food were set up.

"You will enter from here, as guests of the King and Queen." Saetta gave them one final order before shutting them inside a small room lit only by torches.

"So they'll announce us?" Elle asked no one, and Steve shrugged. "Here, my hand is getting sweaty." She let go of his arm and stretched her hand out, waving it in the air. "How are you feeling?"

"Can't you tell?" he asked her, not wanting to get into a discussion of his emotions at the moment.

"Yeah, so I wondered why."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." He knew he was dismissing her, but he needed to save his energy for dealing with whoever they had to meet in the next room. _Why did I volunteer for this?_

"I'm feeling guilty for leaving Charlie with Brogan for so long," Eleanore said, startling him out of his reverie. She continued without looking at him, only moving to take his arm again. "I wonder how he likes the apartment. I wonder if I can teach him to walk on a leash? I should de-worm him and get him neutered. Harsh," she smiled up at Steve, and he tried to return a grin, "but then he won't spray if he smells a female cat. You should meet Brogan, he'd shock you."

"Why?"

"Because he's a shocking person. Biochemistry, like I said, but when he's not quietly studying he's insulting me and calling me— well, you're just have to see."

Steve heard Odin's voice through the door… _and our esteemed visitors from Earth._

"Time to go," he murmured, stepping forward and pulling Elle along with him. She hadn't heard the announcement, so she looked around in confusion until the doors opened in front of them and they were greeted with cheers, yelling, and the pounding of mugs onto various tables.

Steve felt his expression and his body freeze in place. He hated loud noises. The fighting he could handle, because that's when he could ignore it, but they wanted him to _smile_ at all these people throwing food around and staring at him, yelling, sounding exactly like a battle, and there was a weight on his arm tugging him back to reality.

"Look at me," Elle said, her voice loud to carry over the racket. "Just wave. I'll smile, you wave. Teamwork, Steve. Don't let me down."

That was enough to bring him around, and she knew it. He wouldn't let her down. He nodded and waved at the people, bringing his arm up mechanically and trying to do something about his face. They walked down the aisle in front of them toward where the king and Queen were seated, Thor off the side. Steve glanced at Eleanore halfway through, and found her smiling naturally and meeting as many people's eyes as she could. They loved her, too, calling out about how beautiful Midgard's women were.

"Bow," Elle ordered him, smiling to disguise her words as they reached the royal table. She let go of his arm and they knelt together, her in a graceful curtsy, him with a hand over his heart as he'd seen the guards and the servants do for Thor.

After that, things blurred together. Steve remembered being seated away from Eleanore, and surrounded by men who kept asking him questions and shoving more mead in front of him. Steve did try it and found that it gave him the warm buzz that Earth's alcohol couldn't achieve. Thor was there, yelling some of his answers for him, commanding some of the attention, but for the most part Steve was on his own. He focused on eating when the people around him allowed it, washing down bites of food with the mead, and then he asked questions of them, receiving stories of Thor's youth that made the table shake with laughter. The sun was gone the next time Steve thought to look for it, and the room grew louder and louder as the hour grew later. No one asked about Loki, of that Steve was sure, but they all kept eyeing him and Thor curiously. That could have been because he was not socializing very well. He wished Elle was there to help put a damper on their curiosity because there were only so many times he could turn the conversation away from himself without seeming rude, and only so many things he even knew about the 21st century on Earth in answer to their questions.

His mind growing fuzzy, Steve tried another sip of mead to see if that would take the edge off. It didn't, and he only felt worse because now he was mostly drunk and representing his planet badly. Thor was gone, and he was surrounded by people he didn't know, a sea of changing faces, all men, who wanted to meet Thor's new shield-brother in person. He stopped greeting them back, focusing completely on making his face friendly, and they just sort of talked at him for a moment before moving on.

A light tap on his arm brought his head around to Eleanore's face, and more men came up to greet her, apparently enchanted by her Midgardian status.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, but I'm tired. Captain Rogers, will you escort me back to my room?"

Steve stood immediately and held out his arm, trying to walk steadily as his head spun from the mead. Elle held onto his arm, and he used her presence as support, getting through the doors and into the open hallway before taking a huge gulp of air.

"Do you know how to get back to our rooms?" Elle asked him.

"Up the stairs, right hall, left hall, three flights, right hall, there." Steve answered automatically, thankful his spatial memory was at least serving him.

"Okay," Eleanore was quiet as they passed more people, not reaching an empty space until they were in the hallway to their rooms.

By the time they got there, Steve was feeling better. The lack of yelling and the rhythm of their footsteps ordered his thoughts and brought him back from wherever he'd been. He looked at Eleanore— hair slightly frizzed, dress rumpled and stained from some liquid, weary— and felt guilty for not holding up his end of the teamwork.

"Don't," Elle said as they reached their doors. Steve didn't reply, knowing what she meant. She opened his door and walked in with him, leading him to the desk chair where he sat with a sigh.

"Steve, look at me," she ordered him, and he complied immediately, raising his head and meeting her gaze. He felt sweaty and chilled at the same time. She sighed, "How much mead did you drink?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, the cups all blurring together as the stream of faces ran past.

"Steve—" she cut herself off, walking into the bathroom instead of finishing her statement. Steve heard the door close and water running, and then she was back, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. He only felt guiltier because she was taking care of him and he was letting her down.

"I'm fine," he protested, brushing her hand away.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you don't tell me what to do," she sounded angry, and he looked up again. She wasn't angry, not visibly. Frustrated, maybe. He wasn't good at reading emotions.

"No one's used my middle name since my mom died," he informed her, not intimidated.

"Then it's about time someone did, old man." She pressed the cloth to his face again, and he let her, feeling sicker by the minute. He thought about the few times he'd been drunk before the serum. A sweaty, vomiting haze that ended when he woke up to Bucky barging into his apartment and taking him out to breakfast.

"Move," Steve hastily pushed Eleanore aside and ran to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet and puking like a kid with the flu. All the food he'd eaten at the feast only made it worse, and he only felt his stomach clench tighter as more kept coming.

He expected and hoped that Eleanore would stay away, maybe even return to her own room, when he began to vomit. Instead, he felt a hand on his back rubbing in circles. He couldn't respond, couldn't even push her away because he was heaving so forcefully. She didn't say anything, but she did place the cloth on his neck. His body heated it up so quickly that she replaced it three times before he was finally done.

Steve wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and his hand on the dry cloth she gave to him. He sighed, not wanting to turn around and face her, his head very much cleared from the fog of alcohol and people.

"I should have gotten you out of there sooner," she spoke from behind him, her tone quiet.

"It's not your job—" he began to retort, then remembered that that was exactly her job. She was meant to watch him and make sure he didn't pull any stupid stunts. Before, he'd thought he didn't need her for that, but apparently he was wrong.

"There were so many people," Elle continued, and Steve turned around to look at her. She was seated on a bench near the tub about two feet away from him. "I should have been rude."

"No," he said decidedly, "one of us had to show a good face."

Eleanore looked up at him and laughed suddenly, losing herself in giggles. "I— oh god, Steve— I almost punched a guy."

"What? Why?" he stood and was pleased to find his legs weren't too shaky.

Elle remained seated, still laughing. "He wanted me to 'give him the pleasure of my company' in his room." She chortled and almost snorted. Steve didn't find that funny, not when she'd been surrounded by strangers.

"How did you get out of it?"

"He was one of Thor's friends, I think. Blond. Pretty boy. I told him I didn't want my first night on Asgard to be a disappointment."

"Ha—" Steve laughed involuntarily and stood next to Elle, sharing the moment of humor gratefully. He hadn't really laughed since before Bucky had died. It felt good, even if he knew it wouldn't last.

"Come on," she stood and beckoned him out of the bathroom. He rinsed his mouth out at the sink and followed her. "Here, let me see your eyes." He sat again in the desk chair and she bent over him, a hand on his chin. "Yep, burst blood vessels. Hold still." Steve felt the tingly warmth of her healing spread from his chin to under his eyes, then his stomach. His mind cleared the rest of the way as the last of the alcohol left his system.

"You didn't need to do that," he didn't push her away, but he thought he deserved the possible hangover.

"It's not a problem," Eleanore said, and froze at a knock on the door. "You get it, this is your room," she whispered.

Steve stood, considering the implications of being discovered in his room together, even if they were still dressed. She followed him to the door, staying well hidden behind his body as he opened it.

"Captain," Queen Frigga greeted him. "Lady Eleanore is here, is she not?"

"Yeah," Elle stepped from behind Steve. "Can I help you?"

"I just wanted to speak with both of you." Frigga motioned at the door, "May I?"

"Of course," Steve stepped back, and Eleanore showed the Queen into his bedroom. He shut the door behind her and turned as she stopped in the center of the room.

"What I have to ask of you is no small favor." Frigga sighed, and Steve was reminded of Eleanore's direct way of speaking for a moment. "But first… Did you mean what you said before about my son?"

"Yes," Elle approached the Queen, coming to rest about four feet away from her. Steve went and stood beside his friend.

"This is… You have no idea what your hopes mean to me," Frigga placed a hand over her heart and took a deep breath. "Captain, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," Steve shrugged. He hadn't promised to answer it.

"Have you experienced this 'psychology' before?" Frigga looked at him and Steve frowned.

"Yes," there was no shame in it.

"And who was your healer?"

"Why?" Steve wanted to protect Eleanore. She hadn't let on that she was helping him, and he didn't know why. He looked at her and she nodded her assent. "Elle— Lady Eleanore works with me. Introducing me to the new world." He wondered if Thor had told his story.

"Is she… capable?" the Queen was still looking at him.

Steve got annoyed with the Queen ignoring the woman right next to him. "She's more than capable of taking care of me and speaking for herself."

"I'm sorry," Frigga nodded to Elle, who shrugged. "I wanted to hear it from someone other than her— you, Lady Eleanore."

"Why are you asking?" Steve asked after Elle had remained silent for a moment. She looked like she was planning something.

"I have been speaking with my husband," Frigga began. "We agreed that his measures of punishment have only ever worked with our eldest son Thor. Loki takes something different, and we decided that I would decide his fate after this latest skirmish with Earth." The Queen of Asgard looked nervously between the two mortals. "I would ask you to heal him, Lady Eleanore, as you have healed Captain Rogers."

"Wait, what?" Steve tried to catch his mind up to the request, picturing himself versus Loki in comparison to Eleanore. Sure, she could hold Thor off, but he was purely muscle. Loki was magic. "He's too powerful."

"Capable of speaking for myself, Steve," Elle reminded him quietly. "But how would I, you know, not be killed in the first minute?"

"There are spells available to bind my son to you. They are… slavery spells." Frigga seemed so hesitant to voice the word, and Steve understood why. "But they can be modified to fit the situation. I promise Loki would not be able to hurt you, or your loved ones."

"This is kind of sudden," Eleanore looked up at Steve, then back to the Queen. "I mean, how am I supposed to say yes? I don't know for sure that I can even help. I don't know the first place to start."

"You do," Frigga corrected her, staring at the girl steadily.

"Yeah, you're right, I do." Elle rolled her eyes, and Steve's widened. _How fast does she plan this stuff?_ "But it's nothing flashy. It's not punishment in the traditional sense."

"That is, I think, the most valuable part," Frigga stated. "But I am afraid you do need to decide soon. Asgard was lenient upon Thor's first day at home, but tomorrow they will expect some news regarding Loki."

"How will I explain this to the people on Earth?" Elle asked, and Steve winced. She'd already accepted the challenge.

"You may decide that for yourself, but Asgard will support you," Frigga promised her. "I can also meet with your leader to discuss these terms."

"Steve's kind of the leader," Elle looked to him. "What do you think?"

He couldn't just deny what she'd already accepted. And if she was right about Loki, he knew she could help. He felt her certainty and wanted to trust her, but this put the entire world at risk. Loki could escape before she'd even spoken to him and wreak a whole new brand of havoc on any city anywhere. _He could do that just as well on from Asgard._ Steve remembered Thor's story of Loki using their bridge to blow up a planet. "Elle…" he looked into her eyes and knew that she really wanted to do this, and that she really could. "I'll help however I can." At least this way he could keep an eye on both of them. God only knew how they'd explain it, though.

"Seriously? Thank you so much, Steve." Elle was growing enthusiastic already. Now that he knew what to look for, Steve could see plans taking shape in her mind as she turned to face Frigga. Eyes alight, energy high, chewing the inside of her cheek, her brain was running wild. "Darren's already for this— well— he's for healing Loki instead of punishing him. He's been here before, did you know that?" Steve wondered when that had happened, then decided to ask later.

"I recognized him when Heimdall showed us Loki in your custody," Frigga nodded.

"So that's one more in favor. Tony will pitch a fit, then invent so much stuff to help. Bruce… I have no idea, but he seems understanding. Natasha and Clint are the issue, and dangerous ones at that."

Steve knew she was thinking through the members of their new team, but he wanted to remind her of a huge obstacle. "Fury."

"Yeah, you might want to come explain it to everyone so I don't get thrown in jail," Eleanore told Frigga, who grinned slightly.

"I will accompany you back on the morrow."

"Is there any way to send a message to Earth ahead of time?" Steve thought that warning them might help soften the blow.

"Unfortunately, no," Frigga apologized through her tone. "But you two should rest. Is there anything you require? I can have the servants bring you water, perhaps."

"Water would be great," Elle nodded. It sure sounded great to Steve, whose throat still hurt from throwing up.

"Rest easy, then," Frigga headed for the door. Steve stepped around to open it for her and she smiled at him and Eleanore in turn. "Thank you both for giving me a reason to hope."

They were left in silence after the door closed. Steve wondered what time it was, and how close to dawn. Eleanore yawned, and he looked at her.

"Sorry, I'm pretty tired." She shrugged, "Dealing with crowds people is not my cup of tea either."

Again, Steve felt a pang of guilt as he realized he hadn't even tried to look for her. He was so overwhelmed with Thor by his side.

"Stop it," Elle said sternly, the tone drawing Steve's attention. "You don't have to guilt yourself about everything."

"I should have come and found you," Steve protested plainly. "Then I wouldn't have gotten drunk, and we could have faced them together."

"It would still have sucked," she shook her head. "And maybe I'd have gotten drunk instead."

"You should definitely not drink that mead," Steve cautioned her. "It would get to you after a sip."

"Then you don't do that again either," Elle looked him in the eyes. "Promise me, Steve."

"Why not? Other people get drunk." He didn't want to give up the possibility now that he'd found it.

"It's not the same."

"Why not?" There was a knock on the door. Steve answered it and took a tray with two glasses on it from a quiet servant with thanks.

"Because you're better than that, and you know it." She looked into his eyes as he turned back, tray in hand, and he saw _fear_. "I mean, I didn't know what to do. I didn't think you could get drunk. Were you going to get alcohol poisoning here, on a planet where that doesn't happen? Were you going to collapse in a room full of stomping drunk people?"

"I'm sorry," and he was, far more sorry than guilty. He held out his hand for her to shake, and she took it. "I promise. Never again."

"We need to talk more, too," Elle wasn't letting up just because he'd agreed to one thing. She took a drink from one of the cups. "I know you're struggling. Remember that I'm supposed to help you, okay? You can tell me things. I can handle it."

"I don't always say everything I'm thinking," Steve quoted her from earlier, and she smiled. "And besides, you're going to have your hands full from now on."

"You make it sound like I'm having a kid," she chuckled. "We'll both be busy, but you're still a priority. Okay?" she yawned again.

Steve nodded to appease her, thinking that she would be so strained watching Loki that she'd forget about him for the most part, except possibly as a teammate and neighbor. "We should get to sleep."

"You're right," Elle sighed. "But I think my brain is going too fast. Will you be able to sleep?"

"I'm going to try," Steve said truthfully. "We're both going to need to be awake for tomorrow."

"Okay, goodnight." She headed for the door, easy as that. "Hey, how much do you like writing?"

"I never hated it." He wondered where this was coming from.

"When we get home, I'm going to have both of us start a dream journal. It should help sort out what we're dealing with. We can compare notes, but you don't have to tell me everything."

"We'll see how that goes." Steve was not enthused about the idea, but he would at least try it out. Especially if she would be doing one as well. They might actually help each other for a change, instead of her constantly giving and him taking.

"Goodnight for real," Eleanore opened the door and smiled back.

"Night." She stepped out and shut the door, leaving Steve alone in the nighttime quiet full of breezes from the windows, the curtains wavering in the torchlight. He took off his pants first, the leather uncomfortable as it rubbed against all the wrong places. He looked around for a way to dim the lights, then abandoned them with a sigh. He stripped his tunic and hung both garments from the chair, pulling sweats from his bag and crawling under the blankets bare-chested. The torches put themselves out, only one in the bathroom remaining alight to provide some visibility. Steve thought, with all the events of the day, he'd have trouble falling asleep, but within moments he caught himself drifting. He made sure to think of something good before falling truly asleep, and the image of Eleanore turning down the man who'd advanced on her earlier sent him to his dreams with a smile.

 _ **A/N: So… this was a long one. I got to writing, and stuff just kept coming into my mind until it was literally twice as long as I had intended. (I regret nothing.) For those of you waiting, Loki will be featured in the next chapter. I miss him, too.**_

 _ **Please let me know what you think by rating and leaving reviews!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	6. Chapter 6: L Prison Cell

No one came. Not Odin, not Thor, not even Frigga, who Loki had been sure still harbored some affection for him somehow. No guards walked by his cell, and the others around it were empty. Food appeared on the table, and disappeared when it grew stale, the water and juice refilling of their own accord. Loki broke down and ate after a while when his favorite berries appeared along with the meal he'd consumed for his last nameday celebration. If Frigga was watching, this would soften her heart.

The air was so quiet, only the faint press of his feet, his own breathing, the whisper of turning pages marked the passing time. At first it was restful. Loki allowed himself to sleep and wake naturally, reading and eating in between naps and recovering from his wounds little by little. Not everything had been healed, not even close, only the barest of minimums had been attempted at taking the pain away. His head still ached constantly, his leg still felt uncommonly weak, and the muscles in his back would convulse from time to time, not fooled into thinking the damaged bones there had healed.

He waited, counting the number of meals to keep track of the time. _One hour, three, five._ He read, then left the books because they did not hold his interest. He walked the perimeter of the room, listing spells in his mind, then abandoned that pursuit as it brought up painful memories both of Thanos and of his — of Frigga— teaching him. He meditated, but could not hold his thoughts in place. He imagined the royal family greeting their eldest son and his friends with a feast, and even that seemed insignificant in the face of his strategic defeat.

He was bored with failure.

Sighing, Loki returned to his bed where he managed to drift into a light slumber. Peaceful quiet reigned in his tiny, powerless kingdom, until he found himself launching out of bed in terror, sweating through his tunic and looking around to fend off the terrors of a dream he could not remember. His leg ached at the sudden abuse, and he felt the muscles in his back spasm over the fractured bones. After that, he stayed awake and away from the bed.

Nothing could hold his mind steady for long, and often Loki would stop in the middle of an activity, struggling to remember why he had started it. Reading was difficult when one could not remember the pages before the current one. Eating seemed pointless, and yet so necessary when he could not recall the last time he'd tasted food. Anxiety, easy to fend off when distracted, was a constant, prowling monster hovering on the edge of his vision.

He took to staring at the white wall, because it required no concentration, and it saved him from having to act sane. Anyone watching him would think he was contemplating his escape, which would have been true under any other circumstance. As it was, however, the only thing he could concentrate on was the list of people and planets upon whom he wished the slowest and most painful of deaths.

First there was Jotunheim. Even thinking of those blue-skinned monsters caused his breath quicken, his stomach to knot, his fists to clench with impotent rage. The traitors did not deserve another day to live, and yet he knew Odin would be helping them repair their planet in every way possible to preserve the Nine Realms in his warped image of perfection. Loki began to plot his revenge, but his mind trailed to those who sought revenge on him. Thanos had thousands of years left to exact retribution from Loki, and Loki had just as much time to cower and hide his true self, a shadow of the prince he once was. Perhaps Odin would have him executed and he could be done with this meaningless charade.

Loki shook his head, trying to clear the various images of his possible demise from his mind. He shifted so his back was to the wall and leaned on it, staring through the yellow magic to the hallway beyond.

Then there was Midgard and its arrogant warriors, two of whom were flitting around Asgard as he sat rotting in a cell. He'd wanted them to win that battle, but his humiliation at their hands was real. That green beast, the simplest of all of them, had left him at their mercy as he struggled to move through the new injuries and the old pains they had awakened. He would revisit Earth as soon as possible to show them all a similar indignity. Thor's mortal woman would be first, and he would kill her quickly, as she was of little consequence, other than having helped Thor regain his powers. The green monster was next, and Loki knew that he would take some planning. Banner's suffering was just as important, perhaps more, as his eventual death. Loki knew that the man could be killed, but the beast protected him through energy not unlike the crudest form of magic. Creating an unbreakable cage that harnessed the beast's own energy would solve the problem of containment, and there was the possibility of Loki locking the Starks inside it as well, letting the monster kill them, or watching them slowly die together.

"Loki." With a shifting of energy, Thor's form appeared inside the cell. It was an illusion, that was clear enough, but the consciousness controlling the illusion was genuine.

Loki remained seated, preparing himself for a test of his self-control. Thor was predictable, bull-headed, and foolishly innocent. He still thought Loki could be _saved_.

"Have you no guests to entertain?" The nonchalant act usually wore Thor down more quickly than anything. He wanted a reaction. Loki wanted him to leave.

"They slumber," Thor explained dryly. "And it is them I wish to discuss."

"Oh?" Loki raised an eyebrow in mock curiosity. "You are a man now, Thor, you may choose friends other than the band of ruffians with whom you terrorize the Nine. Just because you choose _another_ band of ruffians—"

"Lady Eleanore stated that you are under the influence of mind control." Thor interrupted him, scowling.

Loki fell silent, feeling his ire rise.

"She said you need healing of the mind, as they have on Midgard," Thor continued, looking deep into Loki's eyes. "She and the Captain think you need this healing instead of punishment. Father fought them over it, but it seems to have given Mother hope." The God of Thunder shook his head, turning his eyes away for a moment. "I know not what to believe."

Loki was almost beyond sight, so red had his vision become. Instead, he focused on picturing that whore's demise with his mind, of eviscerating her while the Captain and her young lover looked on. Their torture would add to her own, and he would feed ghastly images into her mind, making her hope before tearing it away with another bout of torture. Keeping her alive, screaming, begging for mercy, listening to their pleas and slowly, finally, granting her the audience with Death that she would so desire.

"Loki, look at me," Thor commanded. "Is this true?"

Loki met his eyes once more, and rose with a snarl. "Your friends think to know my mind? That wench presumes to heal _my_ mind? Tell her to come and have a try."

"And what will you do if she does?" Apparently Thor was not taking the hint, and this stirred Loki's agitation to greater heights.

"I will _ruin_ her. Better than her death, I will steal her hope, her belief. I will leave her a haunted shell, and when she screams for mercy I will send her back to your merry band, a reminder for those who would pity me." Loki's new plan was even more appealing, as it hurt all of Earth's heroes at once.

Thor was staring at him, a mixture of shock and pain on his face. "Do you mean that, Brother?"

"I am _not_ your brother." Loki was screaming, and the noise of his own voice fueled him further. "Did they not tell you what I am? The monster, the stolen relic! My life before I knew was a lie, and after a pathetic attempt for glory." Spittle was flying from his lips, and he was so close the Thor's illusion he could feel the energy waving off of it. Suddenly, with another burst of energy, the image solidified, and the real Thor was shaking him.

"Loki, awaken from this childish tantrum!" Thor shook him again, and Loki used all of his strength to throw his arms away. He was sweating, his heart was racing, and his anger only continued to grow. He lashed out at Thor, only to have the man disappear in a soundless pulse, leaving Loki fuming and full of impotent rage.

Looking around for something to take his anger out on, Loki's eyes fell upon the mattress that had produced such foul dreams, robbing him of sleep. He ripped the blankets first, one by one, into shreds, then the cushions, covering the floor with feathers. The mattress itself was next, and Loki took his time, tossing it across the room, tearing into the bed frame itself and using the broken pieces to stab and gore the padded form, pretending it was any number of his enemies falling beneath his daggers.

A sharp twinge of pain suddenly echoed from his back to his right leg. Loki ignored it, standing to take on the chair and the food-laden table when his leg gave from beneath him and he fell to his knees with a shout. The pain cleared his head somewhat, and he gazed around at the Thor-quality destruction he had wreaked upon the room.

 _They were watching._ His mind reminded him, and he felt embarrassed to have been set off so easily. Always before, he'd kept his anger for necessity, using it to block out his other emotions when watching Thor's back, killing some creature that had offended the Thunder God. Protecting him when he took on more than he could handle.

That line of thinking made the rage resurface, so Loki shook it from himself with a sigh. Every movement he made sent feathers drifting into the air, and made his leg and back throb. The witch had not done a thorough job of healing him, and Loki suspected that he'd reopened some of the more fragile injuries in his frenzy.

Trying to preserve whatever dignity he had left, he made his way back through the feathers, around the broken furniture, to the chair, where he sat and picked up a book, one of his old favorites, hoping it would draw him in as it used to do. He sat reclined in the chair, stretching his leg out for comfort and resting the least painful part of his back against the wooden frame. After smoothing his hair, a sip of ale, and a bite of food, he was ready to continue the charade of normality. Even the semblance of sanity was better than that Midgardian whore thinking he needed healing of the mind.

 _ **A/N: So, Loki is pretty angry, which is why it took me so long to write this chapter. I would like to hear opinions on whether people think I got his psychology right, or if you have different ideas/theories about how he would see the world at this point.**_

 **Miki Rukia** _ **: Thank you for reading, and letting me know where you are. I'm glad the story has kept you interested for so long. Please let me know what you think!**_

 _ **~ Petty White Rose**_


	7. Chapter 7: S Home Again

Steve woke to the palest light of dawn making its way through his windows. He rose and stretched, grateful for the lack of dreams he'd had the night before. He checked his watch. _Five whole hours of sleep._ It had been four AM Earth time when he'd gone to bed, and it was nine AM there now. Maybe talking did help. In any case, he felt fully awake and ready to face the harrowing day ahead. He looked around, then fell and started doing push ups as a simple form of exercise, moving as fast as gravity would allow in order to get his muscles warmed up. He didn't know what time Asgardians normally woke, but if the party the night before had been any indication, they were night owls and late risers.

From regular push ups, he transitioned into handstand ones, one-handed, which forced him to focus on balance as well. It still wasn't much of a challenge, but he doubted there were regular workout facilities here and he didn't want to bother anyone. Besides, this way he could stay around and keep up on the happenings as he and Eleanore planned with Frigga to take Loki back to Earth.

Leg muscles came next, and Steve picked up the heavy desk chair and held it over his head as he performed one-legged squats, followed by squatting jumps. He'd never yet gotten over how fast he could run, and he was always pushing himself to see if he could beat his record time. To make sure he would never be too late to help someone when they needed him. He shook off the depressing thoughts that came after that, and focused instead on perfecting his form.

Footsteps outside his door, followed by a short knock, announced Gerimond, who entered bearing a tray with food and water.

"Sir— Steve, I did not know you were awake," he greeted Steve with surprise, his eyes carefully expressionless as they took in Steve's sweaty, shirtless form abusing the furniture. "My Queen asked that I prepare you for the day ahead."

"Is there a time limit on this?" Steve asked, already moving toward the tray that Gerimond set at the desk. He set the chair down and began eating something that tasted like sausage on Earth, accompanied by strange fruit and scrambled eggs.

"The Queen has requested an audience with you and Lady Eleanore an hour or so from now," Gerimond poured a glass of water from the pitcher. _So much for late-risers._ "She will be meeting with you in her study off the throne room. I will lead you there when you are prepared."

"Thanks," Steve was already almost done with the food, hungry after throwing up his meal the night before. He was thankful now that Elle had made him avoid the possible hangover. He needed to respect his body; it was a blessing, not a toy.

"Shall I run a bath?" Gerimond walked to the bathroom without needing an answer, and Steve heard the water running. He stood and followed the manservant, smelling some sort of woodsy scent emitting from the door as he entered.

"If you please, si-Steve—" Gerimond gestured to the already full, large tub, and Steve bit back a sigh. _What is it with this guy wanting me to strip?_ He knew it was probably normal here, but he really didn't want to follow that custom.

"Uh, thanks," he started, trying not to insult the man's culture. "But could you just show me how to use all this stuff?" he surveyed the various decorative pots that lined the wall next to the tub. "I'd prefer to bathe myself."

Gerimond nodded, and Steve wondered if anyone had warned the poor guy about the needy Earthling who messed up the simplest routines. "These are the soaps, and there are oils for your hair. These are scrubbing pads, and the towels are located in this cupboard. The combs and such are located here above the wash basin. Please let me know if you require any assistance." Gerimond bowed slightly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

As he slid out of his clothing and into the bath, Steve wondered if Elle had fought the system or let Saetta do her job as she wanted to. He couldn't imagine either one of those ladies really backing down if they thought something was necessary, although he'd put his money on Eleanore most days.

He took his time bathing, to make sure he chose the right mixtures. Like on Earth, the soap bubbled when it hit water, but the scrubbing pads took some skin off if he used them too harshly. He stayed away from the oil, never having used anything similar before and not knowing what they would actually do. The soap smelled great, musky and masculine, like whatever Gerimond had put into the bath water.

Drying himself, Steve found, took less than one towel, as they were made from super-absorbent material that drew the water right from his skin and hair. After he'd run a comb through his hair Steve put his sweats back on and transitioned out of the bathroom, planning on wearing his own clothes that he'd packed on the helicarrier.

Gerimond was standing next to his bed once again, and had actually placed his bag on the freshly-arranged covers. Steve pulled out his plaid shirt, slacks, underwear, and socks, and Gerimond turned his back without a word. It made Steve feel like a prude, but he dressed quickly and the ordeal was over in no time.

"Thanks," Steve was grateful that the man seemed to understand his need for privacy.

"My pleasure, Steve," was the stately reply. "Shall I lead you to the meeting?"

"Sure," Steve followed him to the door. "Is Saetta taking Lady Eleanore?"

"The Lady is already speaking with the Queen." Steve's back straightened in surprise. "She sent for you while you were in the bath," Gerimond explained, looking over his shoulder.

"Oh," Steve wasn't too concerned, if Elle was only meeting with Frigga. It was Odin they had to worry about, somewhat, and Frigga had said he was in agreement with her on Loki's fate.

The trip to the throne room took them back past the feasting hall, toward the front of the palace. There was a garden off to the side of one of the open, ground floor halls, and Steve recognized the scent of roses wafting among the other flowers. It was sort of comforting to know that the classical, familiar flower was also alive and well on such a different world.

The roses reminded him of a bombed-out farm house in France that he and his men had used for one night while out on a mission. The house itself was just a shaky roof on some crumbling walls, but the garden behind it was completely intact and full of red summer roses. As Steve had stood watch that night, the flowers had kept him company, reminding him of Peggy.

"This is where I leave you," Gerimond stopped them in front of some small, ornate metal doors, which were dwarfed by some huge panels to their left. Guards stood unblinking in front of both doorways, their helmets gleaming in the early morning light. "These doors will lead you into the waiting hall, where you will be announced to the Queen's study."

"Thanks for everything," Steve told him, thinking this might be one of the last times he talked to the guy.

"It was my pleasure Steve," Gerimond bowed to him, and Steve copied the motion, earning a slight grin from the taciturn man. "Farewell."

"Goodbye," Steve saluted him casually, out of habit, and turned to the door. One of the guards opened it for him, and he walked into a brightly-lit waiting room lined with softly cushioned chairs. Another two guards stood in front of another set of doors, and one nodded to Steve and walked through them, speaking in a low tone.

"My Queen, my Lady, the Captain has arrived."

"Send him in," Frigga's voice ordered with calm authority.

The guard came back out and held the door open, and Steve walked through into pure daylight. This room had skylights with mirrors that reflected the sunlight down in filtered rays. Tapestries also hung on these white marble walls, like in the guest hallway, and only one small painting adorned the mantle. It was of the royal family, Loki included, all looking happier than Steve could imagine them.

There was a small sitting area in front of the fireplace, just like Odin's study, and one next to the open windows that overlooked a garden, possibly the same one he'd noticed on the way there. Steve smelled the roses again, as the breeze moved through the room. Eleanore and Frigga sat near the windows together, looking through a black leather book held between them.

"Hey Steve," Eleanore stood, also dressed for Earth. She wore the same dark blue jeans, a brown belt, and brown leather boots with a red shirt Steve had seen her in before. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy, curly bun, held in place by the dark-colored cloth bands that she always carried in her purse.

"Hi," Steve greeted both of them with a wave of his hand, coming over to where they were standing. Frigga smiled up at him, her soft blue gown with gold accents shifting in the breeze.

"The Queen and I were discussing my living arrangements," Elle helpfully caught him up. Frigga motioned for them to sit down, and Steve chose a seat across from the two women. "Loki's going to sleep in the spare bedroom."

"Sounds good," Steve had assumed Eleanore had already planned that out, as she did so many other things.

"And we were discussing the magic to be placed," Frigga added, catching his eye with a serious expression. "I would like both of you to have a hold on Loki, in case something happens to one of you."

"I can see the logic in that," Steve nodded, "but if something happens to Elle, I'm afraid I won't be a lot of help with whatever she's going to do with Loki."

"I understand," Frigga smiled. "Loki will be taxed with protecting the both of you. It is as much for his protection as yours. He will also obey any orders from you that do not put him in harm's way."

"I don't love that," Elle spoke up. "It'll make him resent us."

"It will make him stay with us too," Steve pointed out, and Frigga nodded agreement.

"If you do not wish do order him about, you certainly do not have to." The Queen clasped her hands together, "After the first few rules are set in place, you should have an understanding."

"Okay," Eleanore was still not enthused about the idea, but Steve could tell she was already running ground rules through her mind, scoping out the most important and planning on how to implement them. Her eyes fell on the floor, and she frowned, lost in thought.

"Captain Rogers, have you any concerns to address?" Frigga asked, her tone understanding.

Steve figured he'd better get them all out in the open now. "I know you said Loki would be ordered to protect us. Does that mean he can't plot to get us killed?" It was a little harsh, and he saw Frigga's eyes draw down in sadness.

"If one or both of you are killed, he will return to Asgard to serve a different sentence. One his father would choose," she pursed her lips and continued, "It will be in his best interest to keep you alive and unharmed. Our Guardian, Heimdall, will also be watching you, both for your protection and Loki's."

Steve nodded, understanding that Frigga would be looking out for the safety of her son.

"Could you tell us what made Loki so angry in the first place?" Elle asked, her head jerking up with the sudden thought. "I mean, Thor said he was adopted, but is that something bad here? On Earth, it's considered fine."

"Loki was… more than adopted," Frigga started hesitantly. "I am not sure his full history should be given, as you said, in the interest of his privacy. He may tell you, especially if you order him to. "

"I wouldn't do that," Elle protested, looking disgusted. "But I might ask him about it."

"As you choose," Frigga seemed relieved. Steve wondered what the story was, and hoped Elle would have him around to hear it. Loki could get angry explaining it, and she couldn't take him on alone, spell or no spell. "As for our part, his father and I do love him as our own, and Thor loves him as his brother. Odin has simply never done very well at showing it."

"So when are we headed back to Earth?" Steve asked, trying to get a series of events clear in his mind.

"The guards are retrieving Loki as we speak, and my husband and Thor are on their way to the throne room," Frigga motioned to a single door in the wall behind Steve that was comparatively plain. "We will assemble the court and read Loki's sentence to all of Asgard. It should take no more than an hour or so."

"It will be mid-afternoon when we get back to Earth," Eleanore cited the time difference, and Steve nodded. "That's going to be such major jet lag." He wondered if she'd slept well. She looked tired, but it was hidden quite a bit by the daylight and by her makeup.

"We should open this door," Frigga stood to do so, but Steve rose and walked ahead of her, looking back to make sure he had the correct panel. She nodded at him, and he propped it open with a block set on the floor. "Thank you Captain. Now we may hear when we are needed in the court room, and we can speak freely here. There is a sound-blocking spell on the door.

Sure enough, Steve heard the pattering of feet and the murmurs of a gathering crowd. He wasn't as worried about facing these people. He didn't have problems when he was detached from the chaos of a crowded room, like when he gave a speech or received an award. It was one-on-several-hundred situations that had always left him feeling overwhelmed. It had gotten worse since he'd woken from the ice.

"So how are we going to clear this with everyone back on Earth?" Elle asked as Steve sat back down.

"As I said, I will travel with you and explain the situation." Frigga was calm, but she had never met Fury or an angry Tony Stark. "We will, of course, provide support for Earth and for Loki while he is among you. It will strengthen our two world's bond."

"Sure, sure," Elle waved her hand. "But they're going to be angry, and it will only get worse if I try to calm them down."

Steve nodded, "They're going to have weapons trained on us, too, depending on where we land. They could think Loki's got _us_ mind controlled."

"I was thinking of having Heimdall direct us to your living quarters," Frigga spoke to Eleanore. "If that would be agreeable to you."

"Um, sure. But it's going to be a mess. Brogan— my friend— is watching my apartment while I'm gone, and he is _not_ a tidy person." Elle sounded more stressed than she ever had on Asgard as she thought of her normally clean apartment. Steve hid a grin.

"You could wait in my apartment while Elle cleans up," he suggested, and Eleanore's face lit up. She mouthed _Thank you_ at him, and he did grin at that.

"Whatever is best for you both," Frigga agreed, smiling at their conspiracy.

Sound was picking up from the throne room. There were people speaking over each other, all excited and all talking about witnessing the punishment of the youngest son. Steve looked at Frigga, whose face was tense as she heard her subjects calling her son the 'traitor prince.'

"They cannot see the door," she said in response to Steve's questioning glance.

Steve heard more and worse names for Loki coming through the hidden opening, including talk about his adoption and speculation on his heritage. Frigga's face kept falling. Steve understood suddenly why she didn't want to try healing Loki mentally on Asgard. If everyone thought of him like this, it would just be futile, and likely make his problems worse.

"Have they always been like this?" Elle asked, drawing Steve and Frigga from their intent listening.

"Thor has always been the favorite," Frigga explained, raising her hands in a helpless gesture. "When he came back and defeated Loki, the people cheered not because they hated my younger son, but because Thor was the rightful heir to the throne in their eyes. They think Loki usurped him. This is not true, however, because I gave him Gungnir myself while the King was in the Odinsleep." The Queen paused, taking in their clueless expressions. "My apologies, shall I explain?"

"Gungnir is a symbol, right? Probably a weapon?" Frigga nodded as Elle thought out loud. "And the Odinsleep is, I assume, when Odin sleeps. Probably for a long time. Like a recharge?" Steve nodded, as her reasoning made sense. He wondered if this was what Eleanore acted like in her college classes.

"Yes, that is the explanation I would give," Frigga seemed mildly impressed, but she quickly hid it behind a smile.

The noise quieted outside, and Steve heard the gigantic doors slam shut.

"That is our cue," Frigga stood, and Eleanore and Steve followed her back into the open hallway.

"Mother," Thor was there, and he held out his arm to escort the Queen. He nodded to his friends, seeming more grave than the day before. _Probably not the happiest time, sentencing your brother for murder._

Frigga was looking at them and Steve glanced at Elle before holding out his left arm. She took it, and they fell in line behind Thor and Frigga. Steve vowed to try and Stay near his teammate this round, so they could hold each other up.

"Thor and I will enter first, and you will follow as guests of honor," Frigga explained. "There will be no announcement, simply wait for the doors to reopen."

Everything was so staged here, Steve was glad he lived on Earth. At least only his Captain America life was in the spotlight there. For now.

The doors opened and thunderous applause and cheering erupted as Thor and Frigga entered. Steve felt himself tense up, and took a deep breath when they closed again, pleased to find that only a little noise made it through. He was not eager for their turn.

"Same as last night?" Elle squeezed his arm and he looked down at her.

"I might not wave. I'll try the strong, silent look." Steve shrugged, not wanting to egg the audience on and make them cheer louder.

"Yeah, you're right. It's a trial, not a feast." She nodded, changing her expression to a neutral pride, her eyes widening, head held high.

The doors opened, and they were greeted by more polite, less aggressive applause as they stepped into the throne room together. The throne rose in front of them at the top of a pyramid of golden stairs, and Odin sat with Frigga and Thor standing on either side. Most of the room was gold, except for blue and burgundy banners, and the occasional green and red ones signifying, Steve guessed, the members of the royal family. The people were lined up on both sides of the aisle, their feet nearly touching the edges of the gray-gold design on the floor that led to the base of the dais.

It was a long walk through the wide room, but Steve kept his eyes pointed straight ahead, trying to figure out where they were supposed to stand. He could hear snatches of conversations about himself and Eleanore pretty clearly, as people speculated on their clothes, their hair, their looks.

"How do they tell the women apart from the men on Midgard?" one woman chortled, and Steve's head ached to turn, to stare her down, but he didn't. Elle didn't act like she'd heard it at all. _Well, if you need a skirt to set you apart from the men…_

There was an empty space on the left side of the base of the throne, and when Steve looked from it to Frigga, she nodded slightly. They came to rest there, next to the one woman warrior Thor must have described. She eyed them, then turned her attention back to the top of the stairs. Elle let go of his arm, but still stood close to him, with Steve between her and the throne. Steve could feel her glancing up occasionally, probably assessing his stress levels.

Steve felt fine, despite the quieting remarks around them. He looked out into the crowd and recognized a few faces from the night before, but he kept his eyes moving and a firm expression on his face.

A resounding _clang_ brought the audience to silence, and Steve looked up as Odin stood and walked to the edge of the platform.

"Bring in the prisoner," was his sole command, and he sounded weary.

The big doors opened once more, and two guards escorted Loki inside, four more trailing behind them. Loki was in shackles just like the day before, but he didn't wear the mask, his stoic, proud expression clear for everyone to see. The audience was completely quiet as he was walked to the base of the throne, but Steve knew they would be talking about him after they left, just as they had before.

Loki reached his destination, chains clinking loudly in the quiet, and the guards fanned out to form a line behind him, two standing directly beside him to hold the chains. Loki looked around, glancing over his family with disdain. His eyes lit up with anger and an evil-looking delight when he saw Steve and Eleanore. Steve had to stop himself from stepping between the demigod and his teammate, acting as a shield in case things got out of hand. He settled instead for watching the prisoner's every move, and keeping his muscles tense. Ready for action.

"Loki Odinson," Odin began, and Loki looked away from them to face his trial. "You have been brought before this court to answer for murderous crimes against Jotunheim, Asgard, and Midgard. You have maimed Jotunheim, possibly beyond repair, broken the Bifrost in your folly, and brought battle to Midgard from an army of savage beasts. Have you anything to say in your defense?"

Loki looked around quickly, calculating, before settling on his father again. "I really don't see what all the fuss is about." The guy had what Hawkeye would call _balls_. Steve tried not to use such language, but it was definitely applicable here.

"Do you really not see the gravity of your actions?" Odin looked down in apparent disappointment and severity. Steve had flashbacks about getting a lecture from his mom. "Everywhere you go there is ruin. Death."

"I went to Midgard to rule as a benevolent god." Loki looked defiantly up at his father, "Just like you."

"We are not gods," Odin protested. "We are born, we live, we die."

Steve privately thought that Loki had pretty much described Odin as well, with his benevolent ruler jab. Ever since he and Elle had set foot on Asgard, they'd been treated as guests, but also as show pieces. When Elle had brought up her ideas the day before, she had been met with a patronizing attitude from the king. Odin wanted things to go his way, and any resistance was met with a wall of stubborn power.

"Give or take five thousand years," came Loki's rebuttal.

"And your actions, your killing… all because you wanted a throne?" Odin sounded condescending again, and Steve saw something in Loki deflate. Elle moved minutely closer to Steve's side, glancing up at him before looking back at the exchange.

"It was my birthright," Loki confirmed, staring boldly up at Odin.

"Your birthright," Odin shouted, making Elle and several other spectators jump, "was to die as a child, cast out." _Holy crap, that's harsh. And to his own son._ Steve saw Eleanore's expression contained nearly slack-jawed shock. "If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me."

Elle started to turn toward the throne, her mouth opening to shout something completely true and offensive, Steve was sure. He laid a hand on her arm and she looked up at him with undisguised rage and hurt, most likely for Loki, in her eyes. Steve tried to show through an expression that everything would be OK, that they would take Loki home to heal, and that she could complain about Odin to himself or Darren or both of them as much as she wanted when they were safely back on Earth. As much as he hated the cruelty Asgard's king was displaying, Steve wasn't going to risk a war over a family dispute. He wasn't sure how much of that message was clear just from one look, but she settled back with a very quiet sigh and a tight-lipped frown.

"If I am for the ax, then for mercy's sake, just… swing it." Loki stepped forward, almost pleading.

"The ease of execution is not your fate," Odin regarded him with something like victory. "Instead, you will pay for your crimes through service on Midgard." The crowd shifted, but no voices were audible.

Loki looked only at Eleanore, and Steve could feel his rage seething through the air. Elle stared back at the demigod, raising an eyebrow as if to say, _Am I supposed to be intimidated?_ Steve liked her attitude, at least when it didn't get them into trouble.

"A slave to mortals?" Loki asked, not looking away from Eleanore. "Are you not afraid for their safety? Sending wayward children to think their crimes through on Midgard is a tad…" he looked up at Odin, an impertinent expression making itself known, "overdone."

"You will travel to Midgard with the Captain Rogers and Lady Eleanore," Odin ignored him, standing and _thunking_ his staff once more on the floor of the throne room. "Guards, escort the prisoner to my study to await further orders."

Loki's back straightened as he was led away, and he did not look back. Steve watched him go, sending up a silent prayer that he and Elle and whoever else wouldn't be killed in their sleep in the near future.

The courtiers dismissed themselves, milling into the hallway in whispering discussions. Frigga descended the steps on Thor's arm, nodding to each warrior as she passed them with calm courtesy.

"Captain, Lady, please follow us so we may send you home in peace." It was Thor who spoke to them, his voice quieter and more gracious than Steve had ever heard him. He wondered how the Asgardian royalty would keep their queen's trip to Earth a secret, then decided he really didn't care as long as he could get off of this severe realm.

Steve sighed at the tasks still ahead of them for the day, glancing at his watch and noting it was only noon on Earth. There was still so much to accomplish, and so much still uncertain. Steve didn't like suspense, not on something as important as this. Shaking his head quickly, he held out his arm to Elle for appearance's sake, and they followed the queen and prince out into the late morning sunlight.

 _ **A/N: So here's another chapter. I used a lot of lines from Loki's sentencing in "Thor TDW" because I thought they showed such clever character development. Please let me know what you think!**_

 **Thatreader: _Thank you for pointing out what was unclear. I went back and edited it, so it should be a little easier to understand now. I really appreciate constructive criticism like that, along with your awesome compliments. Please keep reading!  
_**

 ** _Everyone else: Have a good rest of the week, and a great wait for "Cap: Civil War"!_**

 ** _~PettyWhiteRose_**


	8. Chapter 8: L Entering Midgard (Again)

This could not be true. Odin must be fronting this for some other sentence. Loki's thoughts frenzied as hope and despair warred in his mind, each fighting with possibilities of life and death.

It had to be execution. Odin would say he was sending Loki to Midgard, then kill him as soon as they reached the study. Tell the populace he was on Midgard, then wait an adequate time to announce his untimely death at the hands of the mortals. It was a short, simple, brutal punishment wrapped in the gauze of mercy.

If he was truly to be sent to Midgard, Loki would escape in no time and carry out his cowering plan, hiding until he found a way to regain power and defeat Thanos once and for all. He would overcome Death's Mate and take his place as the wielder of great power.

The study was nearby, so he had little time to analyze the plans floating and drifting through his mind without real direction. The possibilities were unknown as long as he did not know his true fate. Where once planning for both eventualities would have been exhilarating, it was now tiresome, heavy work, his mind drained and slow to cooperate. Loki realized this with a spike of anger as the guards assembled in front of the unlit fireplace.

Frigga, Thor, and the mortals entered a moment later, and they stood in an uncertain half circle around him. The mortals were looking from Frigga to him to each other, but they remained silent. The Captain placed himself slightly between the witch and Loki, and that caused Loki some amusement. As though the pitiful strength of a mortal, even the strongest one alive, could save her from his wrath.

The woman gazed at him with something like understanding deep in her eyes. Loki wanted to rip them from their sockets to show just what he thought of her pity, her connection. Unlike in the throne room, all challenge was gone from her attitude, and she made no move to speak or approach him. From time to time, her eyes would unfocus and stare past him, and Loki knew she was reading his thoughts. He made them gruesome, imagining her death in every unpleasant way his centuries of life had taught him. She did not respond, watching him with the same quiet interest and infuriating concern.

Frigga and Thor stayed quiet as well, but their gazes never wavered from Loki. Thor was looking at him with anticipation, as though hope still lay in his heart waiting for either a warm sun to let it grow, or a cold breeze to chill it to nonexistence. In accordance with his hidden, monstrous nature, Loki planned for the cold. Frigga's expression was the most familiar: love and sadness— he'd seen it many times before. When they were younger, Loki and Thor often got into mischief of the more troublesome variety. Very unbecoming of future kings. Odin would rail and rave, and Loki grew more used to the sound with every misdemeanor, but Frigga's gaze of sadness always told him if he had truly disappointed her.

Even now, it was difficult to keep those memories at bay. Loki brought up his own suffering, his hundreds of years as a shadow, Odin's critiques of him compared to Thor, and the censure of Thor's friends. It helped him focus on something other than the faces in front of him, as painful, anger-filled images bled over his vision.

Odin finally entered after long moments of silence, walking to stand near Thor and Frigga, directly in front of Loki.

"Step forward," he commanded, and Loki did as he was asked, showing no hesitation or fear. He came to a clanking halt in front of Odin, within reach but distant enough to avoid intimacy.

Odin raised his arm, and Gungnir slammed into the floor, making the mortals jump. Loki felt magic crawling up his legs, through his feet, into his bones, and settling there with a hot glow of energy that his chains prevented him from accessing. He did not move or acknowledge it, declining to give Odin the pleasure of flustering him with Loki's own weapon of choice.

"With these spells I bind you to the mortals you see here," Odin began, and Loki's heart sank with each word. _Do not look at them. Do not recoil._ "You will obey their every command. You will fight alongside them. You will not use magic against them or their brethren, unless they allow it. They hold the key to your freedom, and if they should fall, you will return to Asgard to face execution."

Loki's jaw clenched painfully tight as the chains suddenly disappeared from his body, leaving him bound instead by the fading itch of energy that settled into his body. A bracelet— small, thin, gold chain, perfect fit— had appeared on his wrist in their wake, and Loki knew it would not be removed by any but the spell caster and those he'd put in charge.

He let his gaze wander to his new captors, feeling every evil intention toward them file into his head in a hot, dark mass of hatred. The Captain glared back, but Loki ignored him, the pure, truthful patriot. The woman was who he focused on, that witch, that presumptuous harlot. Who was she to control him? He knew without asking that this had been mostly her idea. Her calm expression in the face of Odin declaration proved she'd had time to plan for it.

Frigga stepped into his line of vision, blocking his view of the mortals. "Loki," she began. "We will leave shortly for Earth." Her expression hardened as she looked into his face, but her eyes still remained sorrowful, with something like hope flickering behind them. "I am going to negotiate with their authorities to allow your stay with Lady Eleanore and Captain Rogers. Before we leave, however, I have a final order for you to follow above all others," she took a deep breath. "You will protect these two, and the team of Avengers above all else. No matter what they say, no matter what you feel, these people are your life. Heimdall will be watching you at all times, for your protection and theirs." Loki's eyes widened as he realized she was taking their side. He was outnumbered, as usual, and being sent away. Out of sight, out of trouble for them.

"You are eager to be rid of your supposed kin," Loki spoke to both the King and Queen, his voice full of scorn. Thor shifted, but remained silent, his gaze locked on the floor.

"We hope your time on Earth will help you heal," Frigga responded simply, and Loki caught himself nearly gaping in astonishment.

"That pitiful whore and the useless soldier are good for nothing more than clumsy fighting and weak resistance," he scoffed. Behind Frigga, the Captain stepped into view, the witch holding him back with a hand on his arm and a shake of her head.

Frigga's expression changed to shocked disappointment, but she quickly covered it with a smile. "Think what you will, we leave now," she said firmly. She did not approve of such language, Loki knew from past centuries of reprimand and etiquette lessons. The Captain and the witch approached her and stood near Loki, close enough for a quick snap of one of their necks.

As though sensing his intentions, the Captain placed himself closest to Loki as they formed a tight circle. Frigga placed her hand on the wench's arm and Loki's and the Captain held onto his teammate.

"Travel well," Odin nodded, raising Gungnir once more. Loki saw the power of the Tesseract gather at the spear's tip in a glowing ball of blue. "My Queen, when you wish to return, Heimdall will inform me." Frigga inclined her head, her expression now neutral.

Gungnir crashed into the floor, and the flash of energy from its impact carried the four travelers in an instant to Midgard's surface.

They landed on a rooftop in the pouring rain without the symbols the Bifrost usually left behind. From what Loki could see, this was not New York or Stuttgart. The buildings surrounding them were small, thin residences of brick and mortar with flat gravel roofs. Further away on all sides, taller structures loomed in the haze. After a moment spent looking around and at each other, the two mortals seemed to have their bearings.

"This way," the Captain lead them over to a small shelter that housed a door and a small, ash-filled receptacle that reeked of the mortals' tiny smoking papers. Loki followed, only to escape the downpour. The Captain held the door open for them, and it led down two flights of stairs and into a bright yellow hallway with red wooden doors. 216 A and B occupied one side of the hall, and 216C took up the other.

"Steve, can you…" the witch left her question hanging in the air as the Captain nodded. She darted toward the 216C door, and pulled a key from under the rug in front of it. "Brogan, are you here?" she called, entering the establishment. A mumbled male voice answered indistinctly.

"This is my apartment over here," the Soldier retrieved his own key from under his mat at door 216A and let himself into a dark room.

Frigga followed him, looking back. "Come, Loki."

The lights began burning as they walked into a small, tiled area that led on one side into a kitchen full of mortal's instruments with a closet at the end, and the other into a bathroom. In front of them lay an entertaining area that seemed to double as a modest study, with one blue chair and one brown fabric cushioned bench against the right wall with a small, half-filled bookshelf between them. A television sat on a table against the closest wall, and a door in the left led into what Loki presumed was a bedroom.

"Please, have a seat," the Captain offered. Frigga placed herself on the couch, and Loki sat in the chair to be contrary. He wondered why the wench had not followed them into this hovel. "Can I get you anything? I've got water or some food I could heat up."

"Water would be lovely, Captain," Frigga smiled up at him, her court manners in place. Loki just glared.

"Water." Rogers reached around and opened a cupboard, producing two clear glasses that he filled from a contraption on the sink. He handed one to Frigga, and set one on a small table beside Loki.

A series of thumping footsteps and impatient protests seeped from the hall through the closed door.

"Why do I have to go? You said I could meet him!" a male voice whined, retreating down the stairs.

"One, I have bigger problems, you can meet him later." The witch sounded annoyed. "Two, you seriously grossed up my apartment when I asked you not to."

"It's not that bad."

"It's awful, and I have guests waiting." Her steps echoed away and the door closed as the man continued down the steps, grumbling inaudibly. Loki was almost amused at the witch's dismissal of her underling. Perhaps she had minions, like mortal sorceresses before her. The pleasant image of her falling to the stolen power in which she dabbled crossed his mind, and he suppressed a smile.

"She won't be long," the Captain promised, hiding his own grin of a different origin.

"If I may," Frigga stood and made her way toward the door. "I believe I can help her."

"She won't want you to see the mess," the Captain warned.

"I will offer through the door," Frigga smiled at him again, and swept into the hall.

The Soldier rubbed his neck, and fought back a sigh. He looked at Loki, "She makes a good queen."

Loki did not reply, but silently agreed. Of the royals on the throne, Frigga was by far the most understanding and possibly the more intelligent of the two.

He felt a stirring of magic from the hallway, and the witch's door opened abruptly.

"Are you— thank you so much!" she was out-of-breath and relieved.

"It is my pleasure," Frigga assured her. "Shall I bring the others?"

"I'll get them, come in. That's Charlie, he's affectionate." Footsteps across the hall again, and the Captain's door opened without ceremony. "Steve, she cleaned everything, and the garbage disappeared. Loki, come on over."

Already giving him orders. Loki felt his essential nature resisting the call to obey, but he stood and followed her out of the room, the Captain behind him. He would not allow them to see him struggle undignifiedly until he found a way to break the curse.

"We have a while before SHIELD shows up," the witch tossed the words over her shoulder, probably meant for both of them, as she opened her door.

This dwelling was nearly identical to the Captain's, but with two bedroom doors and different furniture. Frigga seated on the gray cushioned bench of this place in front of the windows, a large brown chair, and a dark gray circular one situated on the wall that connected to the rightmost bedroom. There was a larger book case between the chairs, and a lamp with multiple facets and spindly arms that emitted a warm light. The place felt and smelled clean, and Loki could sense the last traces of Frigga's magic dissipating along the edges.

"I'll give you a tour." Lady Eleanore paused with her hand on the door of the white icebox, leaning against it a moment. She moved away from it, brushing past Loki with a lack of concern that would have proved deadly in any other situation. As it was, Loki knew he would just look foolish if he lashed out, and that was the only thing that kept him from testing Frigga's orders so quickly. Besides, the Captain was eyeing him with enough caution for both of the mortals put together.

"Loki, this will be your bedroom," the apparently oblivious woman opened the white door on the right and flipped a switch on the wall, covering the room in pale light that emitted from the ceiling fixture. Loki walked slowly up behind her and noted the minuscule quarters. A bed, barely long enough for him, a desk with a chair, a chest of drawers, a closet, and a bookshelf all occupied an area around twelve feet square. If this was to be his cell, Loki would suffocate.

"It looks pleasant," Frigga complemented, giving the hostess a smile. Loki shot his not-mother a silent look of incredulity, which she replied to, mouthing the words, " _Be polite."_

"Thanks," Lady Eleanore returned, not aware of the silent conversation, moving out the door, again so close to Loki that he felt her breath as she passed him. The mortal witch was already entirely too comfortable around him. He was, after all, very dangerous. "This is my room," she gestured at the other door across the living area, opening it to reveal a similarly-sized space. She didn't bother to turn the light on. "Kitchen, pantry, and bathroom." Within that short amount of time, the tour of the hovel was complete. "Oh, and this is Charlie." A small animal with a tail nearly as long as its body darted up to her and rubbed against her legs. "He's my cat, kitten really. He's new here too." She picked up the animal and it began emitting a rumbling noise.

"Things have certainly changed since I last visited Midgard." Frigga looked around, settling back onto the couch. Loki had to agree. He could not remember his mother ever visiting this realm, therefore she must have done so long before he did, probably just after his 'adoption' and the Ice War.

"They must have," the Captain agreed, taking a seat at the counter stool. "I was only gone for seventy years, and I barely recognize the place." A hint of sadness crept into his voice at the end, and the Lady shot him a concerned glance.

Just then, a buzzing filled the silent room. Loki honed in on the source immediately: the Captain's pocket where he sat on the stool.

"Sorry, just a minute." Rogers stood and pulled a communication device from his pocket, looking at the clear screen which read " _Stark, Darren Mobile 1._ " "Elle, is your cell phone off?" He turned the screen to face her and she stepped toward him. Loki figured out that the pet name was actually not a letter, only a shortened version of her true name. _Unoriginal._

"Oh, it must be. Here," she held out her hand, placing the cat on the ground, and Rogers gave her the device. "Hello?"

" _Hey, your phone's off."_ The voice of the witch's lover came through to Loki's ears, albeit a bit garbled from the tiny speaker and muffled by her ear.

"Yeah, I got that," the Lady smiled and walked into the kitchen, not removing herself in the least from Loki and Frigga's hearing. The Captain, too, looked like he was listening to every word.

" _We got an energy reading at your apartment. Is that where they dropped you?"_

"Yep, with a couple of guests."

" _Who?"_

"I'm not going to say over the phone," Lady Eleanore smiled, then shot a glance at Frigga. "Can you just get Fury and everyone here for a situation report? No guns."

 _"_ _We're five minutes— no, less— out. We left as soon as we got the reading. And everyone who normally has a gun is already carrying."_

"Am I on speaker?" the witch asked. Loki understood what she meant— her voice broadcast for the entirety of the group to hear.

" _Yeah,"_ the young man sounded sheepish and familiar. Loki was trying to place him, to no avail. _"Okay, we're jumping onto the roof now, so... See you in a minute."_ The call ended, and Lady Eleanore took the device away from her ear, handing it back to the Captain.

"We never get to prepare people as much as we want," she commented to him, ruefully. He nodded silently, casting a brief look at the apparently unexpected guests. Loki glared back at him, but Rogers' eyes slid past him and back to the water witch.

Frigga rose just as steps echoed down the staircase in the hall. She came to stand near the mortals as the handle of the door turned, not opening, followed by a quick succession of knocks. Loki stood from the couch, knowing that a fight might lay ahead. He did not approach the door, planning an escape from the window if things turned sour.

"Elle?" the young man called, trying the handle again.

"Just a second," she turned to look at the Captain and Queen standing just behind her, finishing with her gaze trained on Loki. He glowered at her, and she pursed her lips, placing her hand on the door handle. "Are you ready for this?" The question was addressed to all of them.

"Sure." The Captain took a deep breath, and his stance tensed.

"Let us not delay," Frigga advised gently. Loki rolled his eyes at her considerate treatment of the mortal woman who would soon control the destiny of her youngest claimed 'son.' "We will explain to them together."

Loki met the witch's eyes once more and raised his eyebrows expectantly, frowning. She looked… afraid. Of what, he was not sure, although he suspected the nerves were not on her own behalf. Her lover stood on the other side of that door, after all, along with her battle-mates. No, she had nothing to fear. Neither had the Captain, and he was just as apprehensive.

The concern must be for the reaction and the coming explanation, Loki decided. He inwardly smirked, happy in the knowledge that he was already causing mischief on Midgard again, and for those who presumed to control him. He vowed to do whatever he could to turn the other Avengers against his stay.

"Loki, please don't say anything unless Steve, your mom, or I talk to you first." Loki's jaw dropped a fraction as the mortal woman read his mind once more. Her power had slipped his mind, hidden under the guise of her average mortal appearance. The Captain looked at her and nodded with appreciation, and Frigga seemed to appraise her with new respect.

Though the order was made in the form of a request, it tied Loki's lips all the same. Otherwise, he would have told her just what he thought of her authority, and where she could go. It was Hel. He hoped instead to send her there himself one day. She looked unperturbed at the thoughts of her grisly murder that fermented in his mind, roiling into a turmoil that he suddenly felt pulled into himself. Torturous memories and his own screams took the place of revenge, even though his anger was present in force.

"Eleanore?" The boy's voice pulled Loki from his reverie. He felt shocked into the present, like being dunked, unexpectedly, into an icy pond. Or like having his arm turned blue by a Frost Giant.

"Almost ready," she looked around once more, eyes scanning everything from the cat stretched on the wooden floorboards to the bladed light fixture on the ceiling. "Okay, here we go." Lady Eleanore sighed slowly, swallowed, and turned the handle.

 ** _A/N: Well, things are about to get more interesting. Hopefully this was interesting enough already, so you're waiting on the edge of your screens for the next chapter. But I hope for too much from you lovely people._**

 ** _Anyway, please read and review. I would love to hear whatever you think of… this._**

 ** _Have a great weekend!_**

 ** _~PettyWhiteRose_**


	9. Chapter 9: S Definitions

"Hey," the Darren's eyes went straight to Eleanore, then to the rest of the room. He paused at the sight of Frigga, but stopped moving entirely when his gaze met Loki's. Steve could see the confusion freezing him in place as only his eyes moved from Loki to Elle to Frigga, and back.

"What the hell," Fury shouldered into the room, gun drawn. Romanov silently followed, and they both pointed their weapons at the dark-haired Asgardian. Stark and Banner followed, shock crossing their faces. Banner maintained his composure, but Steve wondered how little it would take to make him snap. With the weapons drawn, it was a real situation. Steve tensed even more, ready for action.

"Easy, people." Eleanore moved to stand in front of their pointed weapons. Darren placed his hand on her arm, giving action to the instinct Steve was also battling: pulling a friend out of the line of fire. "He's with us. Look, brown eyes, see?"

Romanov looked her over, gun still trained on Loki. "Could be a trick." She frowned, and her voice was flat and empty.

"It's not a trick," Steve spoke up, wanting to diffuse the standoff. Loki wasn't helping matters, standing tall and hunching his shoulders, looking threatening despite the cuts and bruises that were slowly healing across his face and hands, and the lack of armor. The demigod wore only black leather pants and a soft green tunic like Steve had gotten for the banquet.

Steve raised his in a placating gesture, using the movement to draw attention to himself.

"Then what the hell is it?" Fury's good eye was still focused on Loki, but Stark, Banner, and Romanov all gave him an appraising glance.

"I'm afraid this misunderstanding is my fault." Frigga stood beside Steve, and Eleanore and Darren both turned to look at her. "Please, let me explain our intentions."

"Who are you?" Tony asked, strangely cautious. Steve figured having his son and his possible future daughter-in-law standing in front of a couple of trained assassins intent on shooting through or around them at a hostile target had a quieting effect. Banner stood silently behind him, watching everything, not getting involved.

"I am Queen Frigga of Asgard," Frigga answered, stepping gracefully around Steve, past Darren and Eleanore, holding out her hand to Fury. The leader of SHIELD looked her over, then lowered his gun and shook her hand, maintaining his scowl. Romanov didn't take her aim off of Loki.

"Director Fury with SHIELD," he greeted her, courtesy an undertone in his voice.

"It is an honor to meet you, Director Fury," Frigga smiled up at him. "And to meet the Captain and Lady Eleanore's shield brothers."

"Yeah," Tony stepped forward. "So why did you bring Rock of Ages back to Earth? Revival tour?" Steve looked at Elle, and she was rolling her eyes at the reference that he didn't understand.

"My son needs healing which Asgard cannot supply," Frigga explained, ignoring the strange language. "Lady Eleanore and Captain Rogers confirmed that Earth could be a place of… mental restoration."

All eyes turned to Loki, who had stiffened at the mention of his problem. He looked like he was biting back so many words, probably profanities and insults, and Steve was glad Elle had given him the order not to speak.

"So what, you want us to give him a prison cell and a shrink?" Tony kept talking, and Fury looked like he was also interested in that line of questioning.

"Actually," Elle walked around the counter, right by Steve, and stood between their group and Loki. Steve glanced at Darren and saw him clenching his jaw, his expression going from curious to anxious in a snap as Elle came to a stop about two feet in front of Loki. "We were thinking of a more immersive, long-term experience."

"Don't tell me," Romanov said derisively. "You'll take care of it."

"Yes. Steve and I." Eleanore met the assassin's eyes confidently, and Steve felt the tension reach an even higher pitch as he glanced between the two women. Romanov ignored him, staying focused on Elle, a thoughtful frown on her face.

"Lady Eleanore and Captain Rogers were kind enough to accept my request for them to help my son," Frigga agreed, her tone softly authoritative.

"Hold up," Fury interjected, angrily incredulous. "So, without permission, you two just decided to bring Loki back here." He ignored Eleanore and glared outright at Steve, as if to say, _You were supposed to watch her._

"We didn't have a way to contact you," Steve responded to the look, not appreciating the assumption of his allegiance to Fury's SHIELD. "We did what we thought was best." He wanted to let everyone know that it was his choice as much as Eleanore's, both to support her and to get rid of their pitying glances. It was like they thought she always barreled ahead and he was dragged behind whether he wanted to go or not. _Bucky probably felt this way sometimes._

"King Odin and I agreed upon this form of retribution," Frigga added, louder now, commanding the room's attention. Loki even turned his eyes to her, apparently listening. "We asked for their assistance, and they graciously accepted. Magic has been placed, ensuring Loki's obedience, and your planet's safety."

"When you say obedience," Darren spoke up, furrowing his brow in thought. "You mean he has to listen to us?"

"Only the Captain and the Lady can command him, and he must remain with them," Frigga clarified, nodding to Darren, then looking pointedly at Fury and Tony. "But spells have been placed to keep him from causing them and anyone they consider a friend harm."

"What about enemies?" Romanov asked, still holding her gun. Steve wondered whether she would get tired of the one-sided standoff.

"He shall fight alongside your team." Frigga looked over at her son, who turned away and crossed his arms, staring out the window and effectively ignoring the conversation.

Steve couldn't blame Loki for his frustration. Being talked about like an object with no free will was something Steve had experienced on several occasions, both in the 1940's and in the present time. Unlike those times, though, Loki currently lacked a voice to make his own opinions known. Steve debated asking him to speak, then decided against it.

Fury grunted, drawing Steve's attention. "So basically this is already decided."

"I apologize for any inconvenience," Frigga began, sounding really sorry. "But we required the decision in order to sentence Loki on Asgard."

"Inconvenience?" Banner chuckled. "I'd call New York a little more than an inconvenience." He was still in control, calm, collected, sarcastic. Steve tried to stop the mental image of Hulk tearing through the apartment building, taking Loki for another smashing joy ride.

"Mind control," Elle reminded them.

"Can you change the handlers?" Fury ignored her, turning back to Frigga. "Maybe you'd want someone more experienced."

Steve looked at Eleanore, and watched her lips sink into a thin line of silent disapproval. "She has some experience," he pointed about, since she didn't look like she was going to reply.

"Lady Eleanore is the clear choice," Frigga agreed, raising an eyebrow at Fury. "Her attitude, experience, and hope all give me reason to trust her with my son. Anyone else would view Loki as a tool or experiment. She and the Captain wish to help him." Those words were directed both to the small group of skeptics and to Loki, Steve could see. The demigod didn't move or respond in any way, not even with a blink.

"She's not even twenty—" Tony began, shaking his head and stepping around his son.

"Elle," Natasha interrupted him. "You really think this'll work?" She looked at Eleanore with a mixture of interest and trust.

Eleanore squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He just needs time and a place to heal."

Romanov nodded and re-holstered her gun, clicking the safety and relaxing her stance. Steve didn't let his surprise show, figuring the two women knew each other better than he'd thought. Apparently Natasha wasn't as loyal to SHIELD as she'd seemed when they first met. At least more people were on their side.

Fury was not hiding his shock at all, scoffing as he glanced between the two women. "So we're expected to host him for how long?"

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that," Frigga turned to Steve, then Eleanore. "It does not depend on me."

"However long it takes," Elle walked over to the group again, leaning on the counter. "Anyone want to have a seat? We can talk about the plans in detail. I'm going to start making some chili, too." Steve hid a grin; just like that, it had turned into a dinner party involving an alien queen, a prisoner alien prince, two spies, two billionaires, a radioactive hair-trigger, and a thawed-out super soldier, all in a mutant woman's tiny apartment.

"I'm going to go confer with my agency about how we're going to get the world council to agree to this, since it's apparently out of my hands." Fury shook his head, looking suddenly exhausted with the proceedings. "Engman, Rogers, I want a typed up proposal from both of you by tomorrow afternoon, outlining your exact plans." He glared at them each once more before turning and leaving. His boots clumped down the stairs to where a car must be waiting.

Steve looked around the sill-brimming apartment, feeling a sense of incompleteness. "Where's Jet?" he asked as the absence of the dragon's blue gaze suddenly dawned on him.

"He flew back on his own. Should be here in half an hour or so," Darren informed him, moving to sit in the gray chair Elle usually lounged on while reading. Charlie emerged from underneath it and jumped into his lap, purring loudly. Romanov pulled out the bar stool and sat with her elbows leaning on the counter. Frigga walked around Loki to sit on the corner of the couch nearest him, and the demigod seated himself next to her, still clearly seething. Banner leaned against the wall next to the door, and Steve let his shoulder press into the divider between the kitchen and the entryway. With Fury gone, the atmosphere had lost a lot of tension.

"Well, after this, Pepper can't say I'm the craziest person in the family," Tony muttered, earning half a smile from his son and a full-on smirk from Eleanore as she moved into the kitchen and removed a white package from the freezer. He sighed, scratching the back of his head and looking around. "I assume I'm funding this project."

"Asgard will provide recompense, of course," Frigga responded just as Elle said, "Tony, don't call this a project."

"What should I say, then, Princess?" Tony asked, looking over her shoulder as she dumped the block of hamburger into a pan and turned on the stove.

Eleanore wrinkled her nose, "I'll get back to you. Hand me the chili powder." Tony did, taking it from the spice cupboard above to the left of the stove. She looked over her shoulder as the pan started sizzling, "Loki, you want to voice your opinions?"

Steve watched the demigod take a breath and slowly let it out, scowling darkly at her back. Frigga placed a hand on his knee, and he stilled a moment before looking at her with scorn. "I presume any opinion of mine would fall quickly under your absolute rule." Steve couldn't tell whether he was talking to Eleanore or Frigga.

"No, go ahead," Elle was focusing on the quickly-crumbling, sizzling hamburger, stirring it around and then heading for the pantry where she got a couple of cans of chili beans.

"I have nothing to add at the moment." Loki picked up Frigga's hand as though it disgusted him, and gently placed it back in her own lap.

"Come on, Reindeer Games," Tony prodded. He turned and faced Loki, a shit-eating grin on his face. Steve had to stop himself from stepping forward and throwing the billionaire out for provoking such a dangerous person in an enclosed space. _Nothing changed from the helicarrier._

"Dad, stop." Darren cautioned him, saving Steve the trouble of speaking up. "Give him some time to adjust."

"You think I fear the ridicule of a child killer," Loki jeered. Steve tensed as the angered demigod rose quickly, standing over everyone and looking down his nose at them.

"Oookay," Elle pulled Tony back and gave him the spoon to stir the pan of beans. He did, but he also made a mess, splashing sauce over the edge of the pot on purpose and holding his shoulders so tensely that Steve knew Loki's jab had hit home. "We don't need personal attacks right now. Darren, want to get my desk chair out, so we can all sit down? Steve, here," as Darren walked past Loki to the bedroom, she opened the pantry again and took out a couple of folding chairs. "Now we can all eat."

"Actually," Frigga stood, glancing at Loki as she gathered herself, "I believe my usefulness has come to an end for now. Thank you for your hospitality, but I must depart."

"But you might have to explain to the World Council about all this," Steve pointed out as Frigga shook Eleanore's hand.

"If you have need of me, Heimdall will inform me and I will be sent here again," the Queen assured them. She held out her hand and Steve shook it, nodding his understanding.

"I'll walk you out," Darren offered, setting down the desk chair in front of the television.

"Thank you," Frigga took his arm and they left, their steps echoing up the stairs until the door opened at the roof.

Steve looked at Loki to see how he was handling himself now that his mom had gone. Loki was gazing around the room, glancing at each person in turn. Steve raised his eyebrows when Loki's eye fell on him, but the demigod didn't respond, moving on to stare at Bruce.

"The monster is properly caged?" he asked, an innocent tone coming into his soft voice.

"He's glad to see _you_ again," Bruce acknowledged with a grin. "Can't say I feel the same way."

"And you, Black Widow," Loki ignored the jibe and focused on Natasha. "Did your lost bird come home?"

"We'll probably have to keep him away from you," she said, her eyes going cold. "He still wants to shoot you in the eye."

"Exemplary," Loki grinned slightly, pleased. "When this plan fails, I will pay you each a visit."

"Nothing's failing," Steve stepped forward, drawing himself up. "Stop trying to start a fight."

The look Loki gave him was part hatred, part anguish. Steve realized that he must be fighting the order with everything he had, while trying to hide his struggle from the rest of them. He suddenly felt guilty for putting his power over Loki on display, even though he hadn't meant to. Steve looked to Elle, who was watching Loki with concern.

"If you want, you could go check out your room." Her offer was met with another glare, and Loki stood and stalked over to her.

"I will not cower behind your useless pity," he snarled, just as Darren opened the door with Jet beside him. Loki's eyes widened, his lips sealed, and he froze, staring at the dragon.

"Jet," Eleanore greeted him, kneeling and patting his head. Jet shook her off, returning Loki's stare intensely. "Loki's going to stay with us for a while, okay?" The dog-dragon snorted, moving to stand between Eleanore and Loki.

Darren's lips twitched as he wrapped an arm around Eleanore and kissed her on the temple. "So that's what you meant when you said I was good at illusions. But no, the dragon is real." Loki glanced up at him, then backed slowly to the couch and sat down. Jet sat between the kitchen and the living room, sniffing at Charlie, who rubbed against his front legs.

"Here Tony," Elle took over the chili again, dishing it up into bowls. Darren handed Loki's over, complete with cheese, crackers, and a spoon. The rest of them were served, and they all sat down, avoiding the sofa. Elle pulled a chair back to sit next to Natasha and Bruce in the kitchen, and Darren sat back down in Elle's gray chair. Tony took the desk chair, wolfing down the food like he hadn't eaten in days, which he probably hadn't. Steve took a seat in the brown leather armchair. They all ate in silence, except for Loki, who looked down at the bowl with disgust and set it aside.

"So, I'm just going to say it." Tony finished before everyone else, settling back in his seat and spreading his hands in front of him. "This is weird."

"Yeah?" Bruce asked sarcastically. "Eating supper with the guy who blew up your tower wasn't in your daily plan?"

"It's interesting," Natasha agreed, eyeing Loki from under her long lashes.

"What have you guys been doing while we were gone?" Elle asked, looking up at her. She was clearly trying to deflect the attention, to talk to her teammates normally.

"Picking up the pieces," Natasha told her. "There's a lot left to do."

"Yeah, Jet's been especially helpful," Tony interjected. "Ripping up concrete, melting rebar, digging bodies out of the rubble…"

Steve's jaw clenched, and he glanced at Loki. The demigod was brazenly calm, looking at Stark like he was an amusing monkey.

"We should help with the cleanup," Elle commented, her expression clashing with her voice: soft calm versus sadness. "With Jet, we could commute pretty quickly every day."

"I would offer to put you up at the Tower, but the living room's a bit breezy at the moment." Tony was on a roll. "I don't want to hire repair men who are busy unearthing missing relatives. It's really all about closure."

"Stark..." Steve began, ready to get into another argument if that was what it took to take the pained, cheek-biting expression off Eleanore's face.

Darren cleared his throat, "Dad, is Happy here yet?" he stood and took Tony's bowl, putting them in the sink. Then he placed his hand on Elle's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. She put her hand on top of his and leaned back, apparently comforted.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Tony stood as well, checking his phone, clapping Steve on the back. "Good luck, Cap. See you tomorrow. Coming back to the lab, Banner?"

"Yep," Bruce rose and placed his bowl on the island. "Thanks for dinner." Elle got up and kissed Darren on the cheek, smiled at the men as they left.

The apartment quieted drastically as their footsteps faded down the stairs. Charlie trilled and jumped up on his litter box, cracking pellets of food between his teeth.

"Let me know if you need anything. I'll stay in town," Natasha was the last to stand, patting Eleanore's shoulder before ghosting from the apartment, leaving them in silence once more.

Elle sighed and locked the door, moving to gather the silverware in one hand and placing it in the dishwasher's rack. Steve picked up Loki's untouched bowl, and handed her the empty ones with the other hand. He got out some plastic wrap from a drawer and placed it over the steaming chili before putting the container in the fridge.

"That went pretty well," he commented quietly as she stacked the dishes and poured the soap into the compartment. She smiled up at him, looking weary but pleased.

"Better than I thought it would," she agreed, wiping her hands and pressing the _Start_ button. The machine began spraying water, and Jet moved to lay on the living room floor with a sniff. Charlie walked over and hit Elle's leg with his tail, looking up at her expectantly. "Did Brogan teach you to beg already?" she asked him. He responded with a pitiful meow, sounding like he was starving to death.

"He looks better already," Steve remarked, noticing that Charlie's ribs were much less visible, and his eyes had the interested, alive look of a healthy cat.

"He does," Elle nodded. She picked up the cat and stepped around to the living room, sinking into her reading chair with a sigh. Steve followed, taking the leather armchair to place himself between her and Loki again.

"So," Elle began as Charlie rolled over and hugged her left arm with his front paw. She scratched his belly and his purrs filled the room with a gravelly rumble. "Tomorrow we're going to go back to New York." She was speaking directly to Loki, the informational tone coming into her voice.

"So I gather," Loki said pleasantly, throwing Steve off guard. "And you will be digging at the bodies Stark so delightfully described." His careless tone was purposeful, contrasting sharply with the subject of his words.

"You'll be helping too," Steve assured him, not letting Loki intimidate him. The thought of the eyes of the dead they would find turned his stomach, not out of revulsion, but sorrow.

"It seems like the recovery would be almost over," Eleanore said speculatively. "Not many buildings actually collapsed. I think we'll be rebuilding a lot."

Loki looked between the two of them, something building in his eyes. "Rebuilding your mortal buildings is not something I am interested in." He was challenging them, but Steve didn't see why.

"And yet, that's what you'll do," Elle informed him lightly, leaning her chin on her right hand.

"Do you order me to do so, witch?" Loki hissed the last word menacingly.

"Yes." Elle frowned at him, keeping her reply simple.

There was silence for a moment, but it was far from peaceful. Steve tensed with apprehension as Loki's expression went from disdain to anger to pure rage.

"You think yourself so far above me," he mocked, "you have sealed your fate by meddling with mine."

"I don't think I'm above you," Elle stayed calm, even as Steve got ready to jump between the two of them. "Loki, we really just want to help."

"Pitiful harlot," Loki spat, nearly shouting. "I will strangle you with your own concern. I will eviscerate everyone you have ever cared for as you—"

"Enough." Eleanore stood up, holding Charlie on one arm, her voice like the crack of a whip. Steve stood with her, but he let her speak. She breathed in for a long time, then let it out in a sigh. "We should all get some rest. I'll get you a toothbrush." She placed Charlie on the chair, where he curled up with a yawn, and went into the bathroom, leaving the two men staring after her.

Steve looked at Loki, who was still watching the door into which she had disappeared. He bit back a grin at the disgruntled expression that sat on the demigod's face, widening his eyes, drawing his lips into a flat line. The threat was excellent, he thought, remembering how Eleanore had admitted her nightmares to him, but Loki wouldn't know that from her reaction. For the first time, Steve thought that this might actually work, as Elle returned from the bathroom, holding out a green toothbrush and a new tube of toothpaste.

"You have things kind of like this on Asgard," she said, holding out the items. Loki took them, then blankly stared at his hand, looking confused. "Tomorrow we'll get you some more clothes to wear. For now, I have a pair of sweats that might fit you." She disappeared into her room, emerging a few seconds later with pants that appeared too large for her. These she gave to Loki as well, and he held them in his other hand, looking up at her silently. "You can get ready for bed while I change your sheets. Want to help me, Steve?"

"Sure," Steve watched Loki walk into the bathroom and close the door. The lack of protest was already strange, but Loki had been acting weird anyway. Weird compared to what Steve knew of his, that is. Steve hoped he wouldn't break anything in there, then dismissed it, following Elle into the guest room where the comforter sat on top of the mattress.

"Here," Elle handed him the corner of a white fitted sheet, then launched herself across the bed and attached her end to the far corner that sat flush against the wall. Water started running in the bathroom sink, then there was no noise at all. Elle looked at the wall that connected the two rooms, then at Steve, "I bet he used a silencing spell. He's still in there."

"Darren do that?" Steve asked, stepping back as she pulled a dryer sheet from a drawer and stuck it under the bottom sheet.

"Yeah," she smoothed the sheet, then unfurled the top one. Steve stepped around and tucked it into the bottom, getting tight military corners on the first try. Elle got out cases for the three pillows, and they finished by spreading the blue comforter over the clean-smelling bed.

Elle sighed again with satisfaction, turning and surveying the spotless floor, the bare desk, the closed blinds, the empty closet. "Thanks for not jumping down his throat earlier," she remarked offhand, and Steve nodded.

"No problem," he replied. "Knew you could handle it."

"We're going to have to be careful about what we order him to do." She put a hand up to her forehead and then let it continue to her hair, pulling the bands out and letting it fall in curling waves around her shoulders. Shaking her head, she ruffled her hand through it, looking more tired by the minute.

"Want me to sleep on the couch tonight?" Steve offered, thinking it would help her rest easier to know someone was on watch.

"No, thanks. We should establish a routine early." Eleanore looked up at him and grinned. "Coffee in the morning? We can work on our proposals then."

"If we have time," he nodded, following her as she went back into the kitchen. She poured the leftover chili into a Tupperware container and placed it in the fridge, the pot in the sink, and ran water over the mess. Charlie roused himself from the chair and trilled all the way over to where they stood, sitting on Eleanore's right foot as she washed the pan.

The bathroom door opened and Loki emerged, wearing his own shirt and a pair of his own cloth leggings that he got from who-knew-where, carrying Eleanore's sweatpants in one hand.

"I furnished my own clothing," he handed the pants to her, reaching across Steve, glancing at Charlie as Elle moved her foot and deposited him on the rug.

"That's fine," Elle gave him half a grin and reached for his face, stopping herself when he jerked back. "Sorry. I'll heal you the rest of the way if you want."

Loki looked at Steve, then at her, raising his eyebrows and bringing them together. "Is that an order?" Steve heard a curious undertone, along with an edge of leftover anger in Loki's voice.

"No, just an offer," Elle assured him.

"Then no." Loki turned and walked into the living room. "Am I allowed to enter my quarters?"

"Of course," Eleanore said as Steve nodded, "Go for it."

Loki narrowed his eyes at them, then went into the room and closed the door.

"Well," Steve looked down at Elle, who was watching the door intently, probably listening to Loki's emotions. "I'll head out, I guess. Couch offer still stands."

"We'll be okay," she glanced over at Jet, who had leapt up on the sofa and sat watching them as Charlie curled up on his back. "Try to get some sleep."

"You too," Steve looked at her closely. "Did you even sleep on Asgard?"

"Not a lot. I kept worrying about today." She shrugged, "I'll head right to bed tonight, and that coffee in the morning is going to help." She glanced up as he rolled his eyes lightly. "I planned stuff out. Like when you go punch your cares away."

"I'll leave my door unlocked," Steve promised, ignoring the jibe. "Come get me if you need anything. Or just yell."

"Okay, goodnight." He headed out the door, and to his own apartment, opening his door just as hers swung closed with a click and a thud. The lock didn't slide into place, and he wondered whether it was for his assurance or Eleanore's.

Deciding it didn't really matter, Steve entered his own alien-free rooms, noticing for the first time that he still smelled like that soap from Asgard. Turning on his kitchen light, he got a glass of water and chugged it, listening to the complete silence around him. He debated whether or not to sketch that night, and decided against it. He wanted to get to sleep and wake up early to get a real workout in before meeting with Elle and Loki for coffee.

His nighttime routine was short: brush teeth, wipe face off, relieve oneself, change clothes, get in bed. It was lying there in the dark that got to him. The day's events flashed through his mind, and he knew that sleep wasn't going to come easy. Sighing, he placed a hand behind his pillow and stretched, sorting through his thoughts to find what bothered him the most.

Odin's treatment of Loki was close to the top of the list, along with Thor and everyone else's acceptance of it. Frigga was the only one who seemed to find something wrong with the harsh attitude of her husband, and even then she couldn't do anything about it. The people's attitude mirrored their king's, so of course she'd wanted to send Loki to Earth to escape. That much made sense. But what was so wrong about Loki's adoption that he got so angry about it? Was it just built up anger from how his father had treated him in the past? Elle didn't even know, and Steve wanted to be there when she found out. Considering Loki's attitude that day, it wouldn't happen for a long, long time.

It would take time, first of all, to get everyone used to each other. Natasha hadn't been kidding about Barton's revenge. Steve planned on keeping them in different rooms whenever possible, and placing himself between the archer and the demigod when they were forced to meet. Elle would probably do the same thing, and Darren and Romanov would help.

Tony was also going to be a problem, Steve thought, remembering his passive-aggressive jabs that provoked Loki along with everyone else. The billionaire might be willing to fund their venture, but that was clearly for Eleanore's sake alone. He wouldn't forgive Loki for a long time, maybe never.

The World Council made Steve nervous, never having met with them, and knowing that they had sent the nuke to take out Manhattan. With power like that, they could send a strike team to take Loki out, and anyone who got in the way would be killed along with him. That meant Jet, Eleanore, Darren, even Captain America could become a glossed-over tragedy that got a week of sorrowful coverage on the news before the public moved on to the next big thing.

Loki was powerful too, Steve remembered, thinking of those illusions he had conjured in Stuttgart, and the way he'd fought. The guy was physically as tough as Thor, and much cleverer. He had magic of unknown limitations at his disposal. Elle was right— getting Loki on their side was just as important as the rehabilitation, especially now that Earth was apparently ready for 'a higher form of war.'

Steve rolled on his side and closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth like Bruce had said. Focusing on each breath and the way it filled his lungs, relaxing his muscles more and more. It wasn't working.

Sighing again, Steve rolled onto his back, flopping over the bed so his fingers touched either edge. In the Army, he'd often slept close to his comrades for warmth, only a blanket or a coat between his sore muscles and the ground. The soft, empty mattress was not relaxing in the least because it made him feel so alone. There was nothing he could do about it, either, at least not tonight. If Elle walked in and found him curled up on the floor, she'd be worried, ask questions, check on him more, lose sleep that she actually needed.

Besides, he had no right to be so ungrateful for a good, solid bed. He looked over the gray plaid comforter set over crisp white sheets with something called 'memory foam' in the pillows that Elle had recommended. They were very comfortable. This was the height of luxury compared to the tiny cot he'd grown up with. _Just go to sleep_.

He checked his watch. _One thirty._ Three hours of sleep was great for his post-serum body. The five he'd gotten the night before had been the most he'd gotten since before the War. He blamed and thanked Asgard's mead for that. Eleanore had commented one day as she walked out of her room, taking a break from homework, that his high metabolism meant he should keep up on sleep as much as he could. Steve had told her that she sounded like his mom, and that made her laugh. They'd spent an hour afterward comparing notes as they used their computers to research the amount of energy it took to restore muscle, bone, skin cells. Steve knew she was maneuvering, making him practice technology, but he didn't mind because it was kind of fun. Having that much information at his fingertips was a huge change from sorting through every topic in the vast libraries of the 1940's.

 _Focus on your breathing, damn it,_ he chided himself, shaking his head. Checked his watch again: _Two._ That left two and a half hours to rest. Yep. And he knew he needed to be alert later, to watch Loki, to work helping rebuild Manhattan. He _knew_ that, but he couldn't sleep.

 _"_ _Just let your mind wander,_ " Elle had advised him, once, when he'd looked at a blank page and couldn't find something to draw. He tried it, letting memories in, letting them take over. They were so vivid, it was like he was there again. Peggy's kiss, the Commandos' cheering, Bucky's laugh, running through the streets as a kid. His mother's smile, Erskine's joy when he'd emerged from the container as a successful experiment, running on his new legs for the first time, crashing into that bridal shop. Swimming as fast as the submarine.

It worked; he felt tired. Steve let his eyes drift closed. Tramping through France, Austria, and Germany. Trekking into the Alps. Watching the radio get set up, thinking it was the most advanced technology he'd ever seen. The helicarrier's engines rising from the water, Darren fixing the coil, Tony flying into the portal. The alien ships dying. The Chitauri falling over. Thor's expression when Elle healed him. Quiet shawarma. Jet's tail knocking out a hydrant.

His thoughts growing more and more disjointed, Steve drifted into a light, dream-filled sleep.

 ** _A/N: So they made it through the first meeting at least. Who knows what's next? I do, kind of. I also kind of make things up as I go along, and tie it together later. Let me know if you have any guesses, although I probably won't answer them because *SPOILERS* ;) I'll also take a moment here to ask that if you are so kind as to leave a review, please try not to reveal any major plot twists that may be in later chapters. That will keep it interesting for people just starting this series, so we can all have fun. Thank you!  
_**

 **PrimeReader: _Thank you very much for your encouraging review! It made me smile and motivated me a lot. :D  
_**

 ** _Everyone else: I hope you enjoyed this rather long chapter! In case anyone is wondering, my plan is alternate Steve and Loki's POV, so next chapter will be Loki._**

 ** _Have a great weekend!_**

 ** _~PettyWhiteRose_**


	10. Chapter 10: L Reparations

Loki did not sleep. He listened through the door as the Captain left, the witch walked to her room, the lights under the door went out. Once everything was quiet, he stealthily raised the shades on the leftmost window and opened it, feeling the cool night breeze washing over him, smelling of nature, exhaust, and freedom. He lifted his hands to the screen, planning on placing it quietly on the floor, when his fingertips went numb. He froze, drawing them back, and the feeling completely returned to them as though nothing had happened. He tried again, forcing his hands closer, and this time the numbness spread to his wrists, rendering everything completely immobile.

Frowning, Loki withdrew and felt around the room. There was no magic embedded in the walls, no spells that turned this room into a holding cell. The magic was within himself, then. The will of Odin directing his every action. The thought made his anger flare, but it settled quickly as there was nothing and no one to direct it toward.

The witch had disconcerted him earlier in the same manner, by not rising to the bait of his threats. He'd been sinking into his anger, picturing the destruction he would cause, the misery she would feel, and she had silenced him and simply walked away. He'd been left standing next to the righteous Captain, his mind turmoiling is the anger was stopped and few emotions were left to fill the breach. In the lavatory, he'd ordered his thoughts, drawing clothes from his storage space between spaces and figuring out tooth cleaning apparatus and minty paste. She was right, of course- they did have such things on Asgard, and it seemed an eternity since Loki had been able to use one. He ran his tongue once more over his teeth, where the mint taste still clung.

Sighing, Loki turned back to survey the dark room. He hadn't bothered to turn on the light, since the street lamp cast a reflected glow even through the white window shades. He closed the window with one hand, and drew the blinds back down before he approached the bed that emitted a faint odor of flowers. Drawing back the covers, he smelled it more strongly, and determined that the scent was coming from under the bottom sheet, which fitted to the mattress. It was not unpleasant, so he left it alone and moved on to explore the rest of the room.

The chest of drawers revealed a couple of extra blankets and a heavy coat that appeared to belong to the Lady. The top three large drawers, and the two small ones were completely empty and even dusted. The mirror showed him in sharp relief, and he noted how long his hair had become before turning back. The closet, likewise, contained a couple of thick woven shirts on hangars and a pair of feminine snow boots, but other than that the room was clear.

The pictures on the walls were the only real clutter. Amateur with a lack of direction, they mostly depicted flowers or outdoor scenes. One caught Loki's eye: the dragon in flight, orange with blue eyes, spikes, and flames. This one, while only a rough outline of the beast, did show some motion through the outstretched wings and streamlined contours. Some sort of iridescent paint had been skillfully dotted to simulate the tiny scales that covered its body when it was in its true form. Loki thought of the dog in the other room; the tamed monster that this sorceress apparently controlled.

His estimation of her power rose as he realized that, in many ways, he was simply another weapon added to her arsenal. Whether that was her intention or not was yet to be determined, but Loki would not be shocked if she turned out to be some sort of mastermind, bringing people with gifts to her side and building a simple army of great potential. The Avengers were already hers, and while she was certainly not their leader, she clearly had significant swaying capacity. Yes, she was clever indeed, to keep out of the spotlight while amassing her forces for whatever she had planned.

At any rate, he had to deal with her when night was over. He checked the clock on the bedside table and found that it already read two thirty. He'd learned the typical length of a night in his previous visits to Midgard, so he estimated he had a few hours left to sleep, depending on when he was supposed to get up. While normally he wouldn't rest in the home of a sworn enemy, he knew that she was also under surveillance by Heimdall. There was no threat from her or any of her compatriots, and he sent a burst of magic to alert him if the window was breached by outside forces. At this point, he surmised, the scattered armies of Midgard would be wholly unaware of his return, except for those with SHIELD. If he could have escaped, it would have been an excellent time to start another plan for the planet's rule. Its combined militaristic forces were so discordant that it would be at least a few days before they all told each other of his return. As it was, he resigned himself to a lull in the tension that had made up his life for the past year or so. Truly, this was not as bad as torture from the Other, and there was more possibility from his position within the Avengers.

Loki slumped onto the bed, trying to avoid aggravating his quickly healing injuries. Only his back and leg truly hurt by that time, and he suspected that they were a product of his outburst on Asgard. He managed to lie back on the pillows, which were made of some firm material that was much more supportive than the soft down he'd grown up with.

His weariness overcame him as Loki let his muscles relax. The spots of sleep he'd gotten over the course of the past day had not been enough to replenish his energy, especially since his magic was so tightly bound while he was held on Asgard. He tried to draw his thoughts to a close, and for the most part they obeyed, only the occasional flash of misery or torture appearing behind his closed eyes.

He was not aware of how long it took him to slip into unconsciousness, but he knew the moment he clawed his way back, yelling and landing on the floor in a tangled heap. His legs were held to the bed by the tight sheets twisted around his ankles. His breath was coming is short gasps, panicking him further, making him feel like he could not get enough air. That was one way the Other had tortured him: stripping him of his innate protective magic and exposing him to the vacuum of the asteroid, where his choking made no sound. His vision would fade with the image of the Other's hand inches from his face, and he would wake in the dark, cold, cave of a cell with a rasping throat and the inability to fill his lungs completely.

"Loki?" a soft voice called from the outer room, waking him fully. A cat's trill answered, and footsteps announced the Lady Eleanore's arrival. They paused outside his door a moment, and Loki scrambled to right himself in case she just walked in. "Everything okay?"

"Yes." He kept his answer short, not trusting his voice. Besides, what did she truly care? He assessed himself and discovered that his leg no longer hurt, but the muscles of his back were so tense that they were grinding together those last few fissures in their bones. He breathed in and out, bringing himself down, and faced the door.

"Will you open the door, please?" No accompanying impulse to obey. Not an order. The magic that bound them must take the intention of the initiator into account. That was why he could open the window, but not remove the screen. Loki fingered the bracelet thoughtfully, feeling the magic attached to it stir, warming his body from the inside out.

"No." He said it because he could, and to see if she would assert her will over his once more.

An invisible sigh was her reply, but she did not move or touch the door. "Want anything for breakfast?"

Loki stared at the white panel that separated them, thinking. Because he hadn't been angry, her reply had not thrown him as it had the night before. And she was allowing him privacy, or at least a semblance of it. What did it really matter, though, if she could read his mind? "I will be out in a moment." He wanted to be able to speak for himself, even if she could pluck answers from his thoughts.

"Okay." She walked away, and the cat made another noise. Loki checked the clock again: _six_. "Steve will be here in a few minutes," she informed him from across the room.

Loki did not reply, drawing on his magic to smooth his hair, make his body clean, and change his clothing into the casual leathers and soft tunic he had not worn for months. It was refreshing, being back in his normal attire. He had never bothered to change in his time imprisoned on the asteroid, letting his armor take many of the hits meant for him. Thus, he was more difficult to injure, but the Chitauri seemed to believe that his clothing was actually his skin, so it was never removed.

Today he wore a gray tunic with black leather leggings and black boots. They were not his best, and he had chosen them in preparation for digging through the rubble that the elder Stark had described. A few more scuffs would not make much of a difference. As he moved to open the door, he caught sight of himself once more in the mirror. While his mother would approve of the current length of his hair, Loki had always preferred it shorter. It did not fly about and stray into his face as much when it was at a manageable length. Thor's wild mane had always caused him trouble, but he refused to cut it, for it was much favored among the court women. Loki had no such qualms. He raised a hand and the extra inches disappeared, replaced by his normal, close-cut style. He nodded with satisfaction and opened the door.

Sunlight filtered at an angle through the branches of the tree that stood just outside the building on the south side. The shades of the main room's windows were completely drawn, and only one electric light above the stove shone to disrupt the natural rays. The dragon sat next to the darkened television, staring at Loki with those disconcerting blue-patterned eyes. The cat walked over and sniffed his leg. Loki allowed it, along with the sidelong rub that it executed before it turned away and walked into the kitchen.

"Hey," Lady Eleanore emerged from her bedroom, tying the end of her braid with an elastic band. She stopped and looked Loki over from the ground up. "Your hair's different."

"I took the opportunity to revert it to my preferred style," he said pleasantly, deciding to scope out what she was really capable of. Knowledge was power, and he needed everything he could get. Perhaps the pretense of sanity would also bring her to release him before long anyway. Loki liked to keep every option open.

"Was it a nightmare? Earlier?" She walked up to him, stopping a short distance away, searching his eyes with an uncomfortably familiar gaze.

"I do not remember," Loki said truthfully. He redirected his thoughts to her appearance so that she would not glean anything from his memories of the undignified waking process. She was wearing a loose tunic herself, orange with short sleeves, and those blue leggings along with light gray, thin-soled shoes. Her hair was damp, and Loki inwardly berated himself for sleeping through her movements in the room abutting his own. Then he realized the silencing spell was still in place from the night before. He decided to leave it, so as not to hear any unpleasant noises in his already apparently terrifying slumber.

"I hate those," the witch was shaking her head sympathetically. "At least when I remember them, I can make sure they're not real." Loki did not want this connection.

"You mentioned breakfast?" He changed the subject because he didn't want to talk about his dreams, and because he was hungry from skipping the meal the previous night.

"Eggs sound good?" she quit examining him and walked over to the kitchen. "I'll cook today. Usually I skip breakfast or just grab a granola bar. But we'll both need energy for the cleanup, so eggs it is."

Loki ignored her diatribe and headed into the bathroom, where the door completely cut off the sound of her voice. He took as long as possible in the quiet, cleaning his teeth once more, relieving himself, examining the modular bathing unit, before he sighed and headed back out. He had to get information, after all.

The smell of spices and frying eggs met him, along with a loud sizzling, as he emerged into the kitchen area. Loki stood uncertainly as Lady Eleanore focused on the pan in front of her, humming softly.

"Hand me some plates?" she suggested, pointing to a set of cupboards to her right. It was another request, but Loki went along with it. If he seemed compliant, she could drop her guard.

There were several types of plates stacked on top of each other on the bottom shelf, with glasses and bowls of differing sizes taking up the top two racks. Loki selected the medium-sized platters, taking two and placing them on the counter beside her before he backed out of the kitchen. He wanted to be further away, both for comfort and ease of observation.

"Thanks," she smiled at him, folding a circle of eggs in half and placing it on one of the plates. "I didn't know what you liked, so I put in just a little bit of everything."

"My compliments," Loki nodded politely, taking the plate and smelling the combination of cheese, peppers, mushrooms, and meat that were folded inside the meal. He chose to sit at the counter on the stool that faced the front door, taking a bite and raising his eyebrows to show he thought it was acceptable. Contemplation began as he considered how best to find out her abilities.

"Was the bed long enough?" she asked, breaking the silence. She was not looking at him, instead serving a half-circle onto a plate and retrieving another from the cupboard.

"It was," Loki nodded, swallowing the last of his meal. He did feel pleasantly full, and it was not the most repulsive food he'd ever eaten.

"You're so tall, I figured your toes might sick out from under the blankets," she smiled conspiratorially, and Loki gave a half grin at the attempted joke.

"Normal height, for—" he trailed off. He'd been about to say Asgard, but he remembered that he wasn't from there.

"Yeah, Thor is huge too." He flinched at the mention of his not-brother. It had been difficult enough to see Thor for the first time on the plane and cliffs, remembering the traitorous elder prince and Loki's own fall from glory. Loki hoped he would stay on Asgard, away from him, because Midgard was miserable enough without his constant hopeful attitude and brazen voice.

Lady Eleanore was gazing at him in concern, and Loki felt his ire stir. "You are letting your breakfast burn."

"Shit," she gingerly shoveled it onto the plate and used the series of knobs in front of her to cease the flames on the stove. "Omlette status: only singed." She placed a lid over both the plates and started fiddling with a machine, putting dark brown powder into a white paper container and pouring water into the vessel in the back. Flipping a switch, she reached above her head and got three mugs down. Loki had seen such things in his first visit to Midgard, the ceramic handles a part of Loki's memory of telling Thor Odin was dead.

"So," she leaned against the counter as the water in the machine began to boil. "Mentioning Thor is a problem, huh?"

 _Direct._ Loki smiled to hide his surfacing anger. "I take less issue with it than with you reading my thoughts." He kept his expression calm, his voice even.

"What?" she looked confused. "I don't read your thoughts."

"Liar," he rebutted calmly, stating it as a fact. "I heard you."

"On the helicarrier?" he nodded, and she understood, holding up a finger, pointing out his memory. "Oh, I can only read your emotions, not your thoughts."

"Emotions?" Loki was confused, checking through his memories. "You only inferred, then, that I was listening."

"Yeah," she nodded, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

"Who taught you such vague magic?" He wasn't angry anymore, thrown off again into curiosity.

"It's not magic," she was looking at him as though he was mentally incompetent. "Oh, you don't know about mutants?"

"Evidently not," Loki waited for her to explain, thinking the word could better be applied to the grotesque visage of a Frost Giant than to the normal-looking woman standing before him.

Her expression cleared, her eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. "It's a new type of human. Evolutionary leap forward— our… gene structure? It's different. Does that make sense?" Loki nodded once, following her terminology with relative ease. The Allspeak was useful for direct translation, and although he had learned the basics of the human's seemingly predominant English, he still reverted to the magical gift of translation for unfamiliar words. "Okay. So our genes are different. There aren't very many of us yet. But those of us that exist, we have abilities. Like my water thing, and the empathic tendencies. And the healing."

"Your… 'water thing.' Not magic?" Loki thought otherwise, no matter what she said. Innate or not, it was manipulation of energy and form, something that took years to master with a skilled teacher.

"Not magic. At least not like you have," Lady Eleanore gestured to him. The machine began spurting brown liquid into the clear container, emitting a bitter but pleasant smell.

"I see," was all Loki said. In his now-private thoughts, he was thinking of ways to test her, and possibly to observe her as she accomplished these feats. He did not know healing, had never truly learned it. Perhaps this different form of the ancient practice would prove a quicker study.

The handle of the door turned behind her, admitting the Captain. The man caught Loki's eye and nodded a greeting, smiling when he met the Lady's gaze.

"Omlettes, Steve," she hailed him, holding out a plate and a blue mug of the steaming brew. The Captain set his mug down and ate standing up. "Loki, do you want coffee?"

Storing those terms for later use, Loki nodded. She handed him a plain white cup, and he took a tentative sip. It was _very_ bitter and dark-tasting, but the heat was agreeable on his throat that was still a bit sore from panicked gasping.

"Sugar or creamer?" she offered a tan container that read _Caramel Macchiato,_ and another filled with white granules. Loki tried a bit of both, stirring them in with his fork, since he didn't know where to get something else, and tried the sweetened beverage. He liked it much better that way. He added more sugar and mentally pronounced it good.

Lady Eleanore stole the containers back from him and added each to her own drink. "So," she turned back to the two men, placing her plate on the counter and taking the stool across from Loki, "Darren said to show up around eight. Clint and Natasha won't be there today." Loki knew that last addition was for him, meant to ruin his hopes of goading Barton into revenge.

"We taking a plane?" Rogers asked, putting his empty plate in the sink.

"Well, actually," the Lady glanced across at Loki as he took a drink, "he said to ask if you'd take us there."

Loki raised his eyebrows over the rim of the mug. This younger Stark seemed to know a lot about him, for all Loki could not even place his features. He set his coffee down and appraised the people in front of him. "How far away from the city are we?"

"Four hours by car," Lady Eleanore answered promptly. "If you don't want to take us, we could ask for a plane. We'd just be late."

"The dragon as well?" Loki looked around and met the beast's gaze calmly.

"No, I thought he'd like to fly on his own." The dragon-in-dog-form snorted in apparent agreement, and walked toward the door. The Captain let him out, and he padded up the stairs. "We've got him cleared with air traffic control now, at least." Lady Eleanore turned back to Loki, waiting for an answer. Rogers, too, seemed interested in what he would say.

Loki considered them, noting that they were giving him the option to say no. It was probably a test. If he was going along with his previous plan of amiable acquiescence, he would agree. However, he was not a pack horse, and he was still tired. The sleep from the night before had not been restful, even though he could not remember what had plagued him. Shifting through the spaces would not take much energy, though, especially since he knew of a good landing place.

"I will attempt it." He nodded, noting with pleasure the look of uncertainty that crossed the Captain's face. "When shall we begin?"

"Not for a while," Lady Eleanore seemed unperturbed by Loki's ambiguous answer. "Steve, we should work on our proposals."

"I'll grab my computer," the Captain left and walked to his own door, opening it and entering, returning a moment later.

Loki picked up his own plate and placed it in the sink, thinking it was the observed custom. He got his coffee and went over to the brown leather chair, picking up a book labeled _World History: Abridged_ from the shelf, and giving Lady Eleanore a questioning glance. She waved him on as she entered her own room, so he settled back and opened it, trying to find the last time he'd visited Midgard and what had happened since.

Rogers returned and took Loki's place at the counter, opening a small portable computer, and Lady Eleanore joined him with a similar device of her own. Loki's attention was divided between the pages and their conversation.

"So, want to share a document with me through our email?" the Captain asked, sounding proud for some reason. Loki figured it was something he had recently learned, having thawed a scant fortnight before.

"Good thinking," the Lady grinned at him, and they settled to typing silently for a time. Loki glanced at the clock: _Seven_. It had not been very long since he'd awoken to his first day as a prisoner, and he was already calmly allowing these mortals access to his power for their own convenience. He felt his anger rise, but he did not wish to start a fight, not at this point. He knew they were trying to pay courtesy to him, giving him choices. While that necessity irked him, he did not want their understanding to disappear, driven away by his untimely confrontations. Thor never thought before he fought. Loki would _not_ lower himself to that level of idiocy.

"Darren says he's got our suits repaired," Lady Eleanore commented, looking up at the Captain, who nodded. She looked over at Loki, "Sorry, we're almost done."

"I await your leisure," he responded, willing the edge of sarcasm away. It still came through, but she grinned at it. Perhaps she was not so easily offended as other women on Asgard were.

The morning light shifted slowly as half an hour passed in peace. Loki learned that the Norsemen had actually been the first to settle the continent on which he currently resided. _That must have happened after they stopped coming from everywhere to worship Thor._ Memories of squalid huts, muddy tracks, and stunted people covered in furs and dirty fabric surfaced. They had been so eager to believe in the righteousness of Thor, and apparently had labeled Loki the Trickster after they'd left. That was enough to make him want to go back and blow up those stick-and-mud constructions they called lodges, and the rickety canoes they used to sail.

"Okay," Lady Eleanore stood, closing her computer. The Captain did the same, turning to face Loki with apprehension writ clear on his face.

Loki stood and gave them each a mischievous grin. "I must warn you, this new magic placed on me may interfere with our trip. If we land in midair, just try to find a soft landing spot."

The Captain frowned, looking him over from a safe distance. Loki held out his hand, and the man hesitantly took it in an imitation of the normal gesture of greeting humans used.

Lady Eleanore rolled her eyes and shook her head with a smile, placing her hand on top of theirs. "That's very funny."

"I live to entertain," Loki pulled them through the dimensions without warning, and in an instant they were on the jutting balcony of Stark Tower, overlooking the carnage only a few hours had wrought on the city below.

The Captain blanched imperceptibly, his hand tightening as he swayed. Lady Eleanore actually grabbed Loki's forearm as the vertigo that usually accompanied such journeys hit her full-force. Looking around at the empty air surrounding them, she slowly lowered herself to kneel on the floor, and he let her use his arm for support. Loki was long since used to the effects, and his stomach barely shifted as he bit back a laugh at their condition. Earth's mightiest heroes reduced to trembling messes by a perfectly safe transportation.

"Holy shit," a voice yelled through the broken window. It was the elder Stark, the confrontational one. Loki steeled himself for more personal jabs, preparing to answer them with subtle attacks of his own.

"Hey Tony," Lady Eleanore called, waving from her position on the ground. The Captain let go of Loki and reached down to lift her back up. They steadied each other and led the way into the building with cautious steps.

"You guys okay?" Banner asked, meeting them at the door. He looked Loki over, then turned his attention to the mortals.

The Captain brushed him off, and Lady Eleanore shook her head. "We're fine," they said in unison.

"My apologies," Loki said, putting just the right amount of condescension and concern into his tone. "I should have warned you about the side effects."

"It's fine," Lady Eleanore grinned shakily at him. "Thanks for bringing us." The Captain nodded his agreement, running a hand down his face.

Once again, her reaction was unexpected. Loki was used to anger over such matters, directed from Thor to himself with no filter, and usually mixed with violence. She seemed genuinely grateful, and the Captain did not look at him with the scorn he'd worn in their first meeting.

"Well, if you're not going to puke," Stark strode over, holding out a shoulder pack on one hand and a folded blue rectangle with red boots dangling beside it in the other. "Suit up."

"Got it," Lady Eleanore grabbed the bag from him, and the Captain took the blue material, unfurling it into the brightly-colored suit that went with his name. He left to get dressed, walking down a hallway and into through a panel that opened as he approached it.

Stark handed the Lady a stiff, gray metal bracelet, and she put it on, punching a combination of buttons until the pack unfolded and molded to her body in a series of mechanical movements. When it was finished, her face was hidden by a helmet, and she was covered in a shifting pattern of metallic scales that changed from violet to muted silver in the light. Loki hadn't seen her in combat, not up close, and he took the opportunity to examine the armor.

"Where's Darren?" Lady Eleanore asked, her voice taking on a metal tone through the helmet.

"He's down—" Stark began, pointing over his shoulder.

"I'm right here," the young man breathlessly interrupted his father, jogging into the room with another bag that matched the colors of Eleanore's suit. "Here, new med kit." He handed the pack over to the Lady, who picked it up and folded back her helmet, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank you!" she set the bag on the floor and started sorting through it, pulling out various plastic-wrapped packages and replacing them almost immediately. "This looks great." She slung the pack over her shoulders, and it sat flush against her back, barely inhibiting movement.

"Used your old one as a reference." The younger Stark smiled and looked up to meet Loki's gaze. "Hey, good morning."

"Good morning," Loki returned the greeting, narrowing his eyes as recognition sat just below the surface of his thoughts.

"You probably don't remember," Darren began, and Loki realized the name was throwing him off. He'd never met anyone with the name Darren or Stark before, he knew for certain. "But I met you a long time ago. When I was a kid."

Loki's eyes widened as the features finally clicked. Those eyes, the magic, the friendly tone. "Janna's son." The little boy who was lost on Court Day around fifteen Midgardian years before.

 _Loki had been attending meetings all morning, and he welcomed the late afternoon break that preceded the night of feasting. After so many hours spent pretending to care, listening to the vague, petty concerns of the various ambassadors from every realm except Midgard and Jotunheim, he was ready for a quiet escape in his own quarters. He paused and waited to ensure no one was around to see him, then slipped quietly into one of the many secret passages that lined the walls of the castle._

 _It was as he climbed the narrow, dark staircase that Loki became aware of a shuffling somewhere far above him. He silenced his steps and crept up until he could clearly discern a set of quick breaths and halting footsteps directly in front of him. He raised his hand and let a burst of light tear through the tunnel, steeling his eyes in case of an immediate attack._

 _The light revealed a tiny child, who froze with a startled yelp. Large brown eyes, dark curly hair, Vanir clothing and bearing. He looked up at Loki in alarm, one small hand holding onto the bricks beside him._

" _What are you doing here?" Loki asked, taking a moment to gentle his tone and searching the child for magic. There was a slight shimmer of the talent around him, but he was not actively using it._

" _I was waiting outside the room, and I leaned on the wall into the dark." The boy turned to fully face him, eyes searching Loki's face in a trusting, grateful manner._

 _Loki knelt on the step and smiled amiably. "You fell into a secret passage," he explained. "Now, what is your name? Who are your parents?" Courtiers frequently brought older children along, but one this young was a novelty._

" _My mother says not to tell," the boy whispered, looking down and away. Loki appraised him and saw no lie, only a desire to obey his secretive mother. An illegitimate child would not be brought to court, no matter how close the parents felt to him. He made an interesting mystery._

" _Well, does she know you are lost?" he asked. If the boy would not tell him directly, Loki could try other methods. "Was she in the meetings?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Is she from Asgard? Or Alfheim?" The boy was clearly raised on Vanaheim, but if Loki could get him talking he might reveal which family he was from. Correcting an older person was also a good way to get a child to speak._

 _The boy's gaze met Loki's in a deeply intelligent, searching manner. "That's telling."_

" _Alright," Loki chuckled, delighted with the lad's cunning. "Come with me. We will find her together." He stood and held out his hand, and the boy took it. They ascended the staircase together, pausing a moment before emerging into the royal hallway where Thor and Loki's suites sat side by side._

 _Loki led the child into his chambers and rang the bell for his personal manservant. They waited together in Loki's study, the boy looking up and around at the collection of curious items Loki had brought back from his travels._

" _My prince," Espen entered with a bow. The older, burly man paused when he caught sight of the child, and gave Loki a questioning glance._

" _Espen, please ask around discreetly and find out which of the female courtiers is missing a child." Espen had been assigned to Loki when the two young princes had moved out of the nursery and into their own chambers. He would keep a secret._

" _Yes, my prince." Espen left, and silence descended on the room once more._

" _Here," Loki knew it might be hours before Espen could find the boy's mother, so they had some time to kill. He handed down a set of light stone practice staffs, unique to the Svartalf race. They were far too big for the child, so he only took one and stood it on end. It was over twice as tall as he was._

" _Thank you," the boy said politely, staring at the designs inscribed in circles around the staff. He did not seem overly interested, placing it back in Loki's hand when he reached for it._

" _Is there something that draws your interest?" Loki asked, replacing the staffs on their rack._

 _The boy pointed to a willow wand, which was a traditional healing instrument of the Alfs. "That one has magic on it."_

" _Yes it does," Loki looked at the child with a new appreciation. The sight of castings was a special talent, one that took a long time to learn if the student were not predisposed. "Are you learning magic?"_

" _I can do this," the boy raised his hand and a small vine grew, woven from the light in the room and laden with tiny flowers._

" _That is an impressive illusion," Loki congratulated him. It was truly nothing more than a beginner's spell, but he was not about to criticize one so young._

" _Can you do lights?" the child asked, looking at Loki's hands._

" _Why yes," Loki pulled another glowing orb from the air and knelt to the child's level._

 _The boy passed his hand through it, apparently forgetting his manners in a surge of interest. "How do you do that?"_

" _It's a bit like your illusion. Pulling energy from the air," Loki explained, preparing himself for the loss of interest that usually accompanied a magical explanation. The boy just stared at him with those dark eyes, his brow furrowed with thought. "Would you like me to teach you?" It would be simple enough, Loki thought, to show him the rudiments of such a casting._

 _The boy's eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, smiling for the first time since Loki had met him. Loki returned the grin and settled onto the floor. The boy sat as well, eyes fixed on Loki's face._

 _They spent the next hour or so in a teaching-learning exchange that was held just as much interest for Loki as it seemed to hold for the boy. Loki had never taught anyone else magic, and he was used to people ridiculing it, turning away from spells he'd spent years perfecting with looks of scorn and derision. The boy's enthusiasm was refreshing._

 _He was a quick study, too. Loki only had to explain the basics before they were trying out the summons and perfecting form. Not a prodigy, but certainly very talented._

 _A knock in the door interrupted the lesson, and Loki rose before he said, "Come in."_

" _Dag," a woman appeared, blond and blue-eyed, but with the same intelligent gaze as her son. Loki recognized her as one of the main questioners at the meetings. She'd been asking about how history was taught on Asgard, in comparison to the other major realms. Such topics were deemed less important than ones about statecraft and warrior training, so after a few attempts she had fallen silent._

" _Hi Mom," the boy answered, leaping up and showing her the orb in his hand. Loki stared at him, never having heard that term used before._ Mom… Mother? _He discarded it as a rare or new term from Vanaheim._

 _The woman smiled at her son, Dag, and knelt to observe his new skill. "Incredible," she congratulated him, and he beamed at her. Then, apparently remembering her surroundings, the woman straightened and curtsied deeply. "Thank you so much for your kindness, Your Majesty."_

" _Not at all," Loki inclined his head as she stood back up, taking her son's hand. "He has some talent."_

" _He does," she agreed. Loki was surprised by her confidence. Women, even non-Asgardians, usually simpered a good deal when a member of royalty paid them or their relatives a compliment._

" _May I ask your name?" Loki was curious. She was not a member of any major family, or at least not a high-ranking Vanir one. But she must have connections in order to attend the courts of Asgard._

" _Jana Gjurddaughter," the woman replied, "of Vanaheim. I serve on the teacher's council."_

" _I recall your questions from the meetings," Loki nodded. The boy was still working on his spell, making the orb grow brighter and dimming it down. Loki decided not to ask after the lad's father, despite his curiosity. He understood the wish to keep some things secret. It was one reason he'd never shown Thor some of the most secret passageways through the castle._

 _The bell sounded, warning those preparing that the feast would soon begin._

" _Well, thank you," Jana said again, looking toward the door. It would be rude of her to leave without Loki dismissing them._

" _Enjoy the rest of your stay on Asgard." He played the part of dutiful prince once more, readying himself for the ruckus of the feasting hall._

" _We will, Your Majesty," Jana curtsied once more and turned to go._

" _Bye," Dag waved over his shoulder as he followed his mother from the room._

Loki had not forgotten about that incident. It was such a short time ago, he'd simply misplaced the idea that the little boy would have grown up into the young man standing before him.

"Yep, Jana's son." Darren smiled. The Captain joined them, his hooded helm folded back to display his face, his shield strapped to his back. "Darren is my real name, though."

"Half-mortal," Loki was still reeling as the realizations kept flooding in. He looked from Stark to his son, seeing similarities to both parents well evident in everything Darren did, said, expressed. "So secretive… for good reason."

"Yeah," Darren shrugged. "She didn't think Asgard was ready for such an exotic mix."

Loki had to agree. Before he'd visited Thor during his banishment, he had only seen Midgard as a backward realm still digging their way out of the mud. Truly, they had only advanced in the past two hundred years, and they still had so far to go to even compare to Asgard. The little boy would have been viewed as an oddity in the best of circumstances, and an abomination in the worst.

The dragon landed on the balcony and sat looking in at them "Okay, looks like everyone's here," Lady Eleanore checked her watch and looked around. They had only been at the Tower for a few minutes, but Loki could see the dust starting to rise from the reconstruction and demolition that were taking place side by side.

"Let's get started," the Captain took charge, and the people around him straightened like soldiers awaiting their marching orders. "We'll head down and see what needs doing. Stark, do they know we're coming?"

"Considering we've been helping them out the past few days, yes." The elder Stark replied, pressing his wristband in a familiar motion. The wall opened, revealing the red and gold suit, along with the charcoal one that Darren wore. Both were in perfect condition, clearly repaired from the battle. They dissembled and formed around their owners, clanking together with metallic finality.

"We'll meet you down there," the Captain hailed them as they took off through the broken window, leaving a faint trail of smoke in the air. "Elle, you going with Jet?"

"Yep," she nodded, her helmet taking shape around her face as she turned and jogged into the morning sunlight. Leaping onto the dragon, she settled between its spikes. The beast unfurled its wings and they tipped over the precipice, gliding away and down between the city's spires.

"I'm running the clinic down in the lobby," Banner said, heading toward the elevator. "You guys want a ride down?"

"Sure," the Captain inclined his head at Loki, who followed without a word.

The elevator was silent, awkwardly so. The three men— _two disguised monsters and an experiment, really—_ stood as far apart as they could get, and Loki did not look at either of the other two.

"So… how was your first night?" Banner asked as they descended. Loki wondered if they would all attempt this friendly banter, and how long it would take for them to give up.

"Restful," he lied, tone deferential, glancing down at the floor.

"That's good." Another minute of silence, and the doors opened with a _ding_ , admitting them into organized chaos.

Banner stepped around Loki and walked up to a team clad in obnoxiously bright yellow, speaking rapidly in low tones. All around were makeshift beds and benches upon which sat minorly injured humans who were attended by people in uniforms of bright colors or drab tones of gray and green. Everyone halted and stared at Loki, and he felt an uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, sense of importance.

"Captain America!" a little girl shrieked, running straight past Loki's legs and grabbing Rogers by the hand. It took Loki a moment more to realize that the people were staring at their hero, not the plainly dressed villain in their midst. Most of them had not even seen him during the battle, might not be aware he was a part of it. He was a shadow again as Rogers smiled down at the child and greeted her warmly.

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked, her red curls waving as she tugged the gloved hand. "There's no bad guys."

"I'm going to help clean up outside," the Captain explained.

"Our house got messed up, but my mom says they're going to fix it." Said mother rushed around Loki and placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Honey, we have to let Captain America go do his job." The woman looked tired, careworn. No obvious injury was evident, but when Loki looked in the direction she'd come from he saw a man lying on a bed with severe burns on his arm and face. "Let's go back to Daddy."

"Mooooom," the girl moaned, hanging her head.

"Sorry about this," the woman ignored her as the Captain transferred the girl's hand to hers. "You're her— well, our— hero."

"Thank you, ma'am." Rogers was the perfect gentleman: practiced, calm, and humble in the face of praise. He even blushed, for Bor's sake.

Loki rolled his eyes and headed for the front entrance as a flash of orange scales and violet armor moved by the glass. Rogers bid hasty goodbyes and followed him out the revolving doors and into the morning sunlight.

"Hey," Lady Eleanore greeted them from behind her helmet. "There's a big building that still needs to be swept a couple blocks away. They're requesting you, Steve, and whoever you want to bring. The rubble is almost cleared, so they're doing a search for civilians." The two Starks landed beside the dragon, who was watching Loki as usual.

"Right," Rogers listened to the report, his expression solemn. "Elle, Jet, Loki, you're with me. Darren, Tony, you go wherever they need heavy lifting, and do fly bys to direct rescue units to the most important places." He looked around and found no dissenters.

"Here," Darren stepped forward, holding out his hand. Rogers took a small ear piece and put it on. "Loki?" the young man offered one to him.

"And why would I need this primitive magic?" Loki asked disdainfully. He noted that Rogers gave him a surprised look, and Eleanore's body language communicated astonishment as well. Loki did not understand their reactions, but he took pleasure in them all the same.

"To communicate with the rest of the team," the Captain told him, raising an eyebrow at Loki's expression.

 _The rest of the team, indeed._ If Rogers was so quick to accept him, Loki could only imagine how poor his other decisions must fare. And he was their _leader._ It was a wonder they stopped the Chitauri at all.

"Loki," the Lady's voice warned. He sighed and placed the plastic device in his ear, already planning to 'lose' it later on.

"Great. Move out." Rogers dismissed them, and the Starks flew away. Eleanore walked with them as the dragon padded silently behind.

They made their way to a husk of a building with blasted out windows and twelve floors. The rubble that had been cleared was from one of the large Chitauri vessels that had crashed into several buildings that lined the block. The beast was cut apart and hauled away in pieces, still blocking the entrances to the structures on either side.

Loki could see why they were sending the Captain in for surveillance: the supports had been damaged and barely held up the mass of manufactured stone and glass. Normal humans would not survive if it collapsed, so of course the hero would volunteer his own life and the lives of his friends. _So very like Thor._

They spoke to the commanders of the rescue team. This group seemed to be a part of Midgard's army, dressed in the checkered, faded colors that allowed them to blend into the dusty cityscape. They reported no signs of life from the buildings, but they wanted a visual confirmation before they began demolition.

Rogers halted as they began to approach the building. "Elle, Loki, you want to wait out here?"

"Nope," Lady Eleanore answered for both of them. Loki did not much care, but having the Captain and Lady in the same location would make his 'protection' duties vastly simpler.

Rogers sighed, "That's what I thought." They started off again, reaching the crumbled entrance and stepping over uncleared debris.

" _That building is in rough shape,_ " reported a tinny version of Darren's voice through their communication devices. Looking up, Loki saw him streaking around a corner and over their heads. _"Stay away from windows."_

"Got it," Rogers told him, looking ahead into the gloom of a powered-down cavern. "Anyone got a flashlight?"

"I didn't see one in my bag. I'll add it later," Lady Eleanore looked at Loki. "Think you could…"

Without a word, Loki raised his hand and the familiar ball of white light shimmered into existence. It floated in front of them as they continued into the building, casting shadows in sharp relief.

"Thanks," the Lady nodded at him, and he did not respond. Better to obey the simple requests than to turn them into crippling commands.

"This will go faster if we split up," Rogers looked to each of them in turn, pulling up his helmet hood. _So much for simple protection._ Loki directed two more orbs to track their movements, and the Captain gave him an appreciative look. "Thanks. I'll take the bottom four levels, Loki you take the middle four, and Elle you're up top. Stay in contact and ask for help if you need it." This last was directed at both Loki and the Lady, who shrugged and started for the stairs.

And so it went. The building held no life, only desks and papers scattered around burnt floor tiles and foul-smelling fried electronics. There were no bodies on the floors Loki checked, and he did look thoroughly, moving quickly to the corners of each room to ensure that he missed nothing. The occupants must have had time to evacuate before the Chitauri landed here.

" _All clear on the fourth floor,"_ the Captain's voice spoke up from Loki's ear just as he was heading back to the stairs. _"What's your status?"_

Loki decided to deliver his report in person, transporting himself directly behind the Captain and making him jump. "My floors were clear as well," he divulged as the man looked him over and found no threat.

" _Nothing."_ Lady Eleanore reported. _"I'm about done on twelve. I'll meet you outside."_

"Copy that," Rogers and Loki walked down the stairs and into the open air once more. The Lady soon joined them, her helmet covering her face and masking the sound of her approach.

The next building had been opened up, and they continued down the block in the same manner. Loki found the work tedious but simple. He provided light, and the two mortals refrained from ordering him around. Occasionally a mortal worker would get injured by shifting debris, and Lady Eleanore would halt her search to go and heal them, leaving Loki and Rogers to scope out the rest of the floors. The Captain seemed not to mind this, although he gave her searching glances whenever she returned. Loki had no idea what he was looking for; the sorceress looked exactly the same every time. Rogers himself often helped to remove moderate amounts of detritus, often enlisting Loki's help with a particularly large slab. Loki did not mind the physical work as much as he'd expected, as it gave his mind something to focus on other than its circular pattern of frustration, despair, and rage.

The dragon worked with the humans, moving rubble more quickly and precisely than the machines could ever hope to. Intermittent information would flow through from the Starks and Banner, reporting progress on a specific site or the completion of a troublesome patient's care. The trio Loki was part of stopped for a quick lunch together, eating in silence as the rescue workers moved around them to clear more and more space. Loki did not speak throughout the day, except to answer questions directed at him, and sometimes not even then. He had no desire to form friendships with his captors.

Some of the buildings groaned from time to time, but they all remained standing well past their inhabitance. There were no human bodies to find, but Loki recognized the evidence of deaths in the singed outlines of victims left on the walls and floor. Chitauri were rotting and left alone to be demolished with the rest of the wreckage. Loki felt no sympathy: they were a hive mind, and the workers had no more spirit or honor than the flies that buzzed around their corpses.

Hours passed, and the angle of the sun was well westward when they encountered what would be one of their last projects for the day. _This one should have been first_ , Loki thought, surveying its creaking mass. It was quite tall at thirty floors, which accounted for its instability. As Loki understood it, several Chitauri hovercraft had exploded in the ground floor's parking lot, while one of the large ships had landed on top of the building as it died, then rolled off.

The Captain looked concerned as well, but he led them inside with a sigh. Loki was the only one using his magic lighting, as the mortals had gotten electric torches from the people in drab uniforms who Lady Eleanore had called the 'National Guard.' Apparently this was not the same as the Einherjar, but Loki had not asked for specifics.

"Same as the last ones," Rogers informed them. "Elle you've got the top ten, Loki the middle, and I've got the ground."

They split up, Loki beginning on the nineteenth floor and working his way down. There were many more burn marks and human deaths in this building, probably because of the height and the limited evacuation availability combined with the Chitauri jumping through the windows unexpectedly. There was nothing to speak of, and he heard no differing reports through the device in his ear. He was in the middle of the thirteenth floor when a huge crash sounded from outside, and the entire structure shook and started to crumble.

" _Get out now! They're wrecking the other end of the block!"_ The Captain sounded panicked as Loki heard crumbling and groaning through the headset. _"This whole place is going down!"_

" _Got it,"_ Lady Eleanore replied breathlessly. A moment of silence, and Loki was about to transport himself away when, " _Oh my god, there's someone alive up here."_

Loki teleported to her location immediately, feeling along their connection until he found himself standing in front of a collapsed doorway under which a man was trapped. Lady Eleanore was digging frantically at the pieces of stone around him, but there were heavier metal bars to worry about further in. The man was half awake and mumbling something about blue fire.

" _I'm on my way up,_ " the Captain reported, resigned and frantic.

"I have them," Loki used his device for the first time that day. "You will not reach us in time. Get out of the building."

"Listen to him, Steve!" Lady Eleanore yelled, still scrabbling frantically. "Loki will get us out of here." The building shook again and began listing to one side, plaster and dust falling from the ceiling. Loki rushed forward and grabbed both people by the arms, pulling them to the safest nearby place he could think of: Stark Tower's damaged entertainment room.

As soon as they landed, the man started screaming. Loki only registered the sound at first before he noticed the streams of blood that were coming from both his legs and sinking into the cracks in the floor.

"Shit," Eleanore leapt around and tried to still the flailing limb that was broken in at least five places. The other was less damaged, but still gushing red. Loki's stomach turned as she sat on the man's thigh and held his leg down. He would not stop screaming.

Silver light began pouring from the Lady's hand, and the magic crunched the bones back into place. Then the blood slowed and finally stopped as fresh muscle and skin flowed over it in quick succession.

" _You guys alright?_ " the Captain's voice sounded strained through the ear piece.

"We are unharmed," Loki turned away from the man as Lady Eleanore placed a bloody gloved hand on his head and slid him into unconsciousness.

" _Where did you go?"_

"The Tower." He realized he could have just as well taken them to a place where rescue for the man was more likely, but it had been a hasty decision.

" _Can you get Elle back down here? Arm's busted and it's already healing wrong."_

"Bruce, send up a stretcher and a couple paramedics. Severe dehydration and trauma, possible shock." Lady Eleanore spoke professionally as she came up beside Loki, whisking the blood from her armor's scales. She looked up at him through her visor and reached out her hand, letting it hover as a question between them.

Loki sighed and took her back to the Captain's location. When they got there, the man was surrounded by the two Starks and a medical team, all of whom were trying unsuccessfully to help. The dragon loomed quietly behind them.

"He's healing already. We can't even break it," one of the medics informed them as they stepped back to allow the Lady through. Rogers was standing, holding his arm awkwardly against his side, a blank expression on his face. Loki stayed outside the group, watching intently.

"Okay, everyone stand back a little," Lady Eleanore took charge, spreading her arms like protective wings. "Steve? Look at me." He complied, his eyes glassy. "Good. Now, go ahead and sit down." Obedience again, with a wince. "Darren."

The younger Stark approached, kneeling at her side. "Right here?" He pointed to a concealed spot on the arm, confirming his target.

"Yeah, right now." Her voice was tense. "Steve, this is going to hurt for a minute."

"I'm fine. Go ahead," Rogers' breath was uneven as he let his arm hang limp. It was bent the wrong direction halfway between the wrist and the elbow.

"No warning," Darren grabbed the Captain's forearm in his hand and waited just a moment before cracking the bones apart. Rogers gasped and pulled away, but the metal hands of the elder Stark were there, holding him still.

Lady Eleanore slid closer and placed her hands over the injury, her magic glowing through the onset of twilight. The human medics watched in amazement as the bone visibly knitted together, leaving the Captain sighing in relief and the arm just like new.

"Where can I get some of that medicine?" one of them joked clapping a hand to their vehicle and leaning against it. The rest of the crew laughed, and the atmosphere lightened a great deal.

Rogers rose slowly, and Darren pulled Eleanore up beside him.

"Let's head back to the Tower," Stark suggested, his red and gold suit flashing as he turned to fly away. "Cap, want a ride?"

"I'll walk, thanks." Rogers looked at both Starks and Loki, confirming he didn't need their help. The Tower was not far away. They'd worked their way around it through the course of the day, and now stood less than a mile away on its southern side.

Seeing as no one was asking him for transport, Loki took a step and regained his footing on the cracked floor of the Tower once more. This meant he was there when the Lady Eleanore returned on dragonback, and he could see her stumble off, legs shaking, struggling to stand. He watched as she wearily patted her magical pet on the snout, then made her way inside. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Delayed reaction." Was her explanation. Her helmet folded back and revealed a pale, gaunt face much like that of the trapped man she had healed. She dropped her medical pack on the ground and sat cross-legged, rooting through the bag until she unearthed bottles of water.

"Holy crap, Elle," Darren's suit flew off in pieces as he landed, walking briskly to sit beside his lover. "Wait, I'll get you some food." He leapt to his feet again and raced out of the room.

"Paging Doctor Banner," Stark landed soon after his son, but he remained inside his armor. "We have a lovely young patient up here who overdid it today—"

"No, Tony, I'm fine." Eleanore waved him off. "I just need some rest, there's nothing Bruce can do about it."

" _Doctor Banner is accompanying Captain Rogers to this level, Sir."_ A cultured voice rang from the walls, making Loki jump and look around in surprise. He was _not_ afraid, just caught off guard.

Still, Stark laughed at him, which roused Loki's dormant anger from its resting place in the back of his mind.

"It's called Jarvis," Lady Eleanore explained, drawing his attention back to her. "It's an acronym for 'Just A Very Intelligent System.' He's a computer program that Tony designed to run the building."

"Among other things," Stark agreed.

"Here we go," Darren returned from down the hall, carrying several rectangularly packaged edibles in his hands. He handed two to Eleanore and threw one to his father. "Loki?" he held one out, tossing it when Loki nodded.

It was stiff, dry, tasting of sweetness and tree bark. _How could mortals survive this?_ Loki looked around and saw Lady Eleanore already finishing her first one with a satisfied sigh.

"Well, you look awful," Banner commented as he exited the elevator. The Captain said nothing, only looking concerned as they both approached the woman on the floor.

Both of his mortal captors, Loki noticed, looked quite weary. The Captain hid it well under excellent posture and a decisive manner, but he was flagging after a day spent in intense physical labor. Loki was pleasantly spent, but if needed he knew he could go another three days on the same pace with no sleep and still function just as well.

"I'd say rest and get plenty of fluids— not just water," Banner stood from checking on the Lady and looked around. "Gatorade and maybe some juice to replenish what you lost."

"I've got both at my apartment," Lady Eleanore rose with a shiver and kissed Darren on the cheek. "See you tomorrow?"

"Have a good night," he hugged her, and Loki averted his eyes from the display.

"Loki, could you please take us back home?" her voice was soft, and she did not approach him until he nodded his acquiescence. "Meet you back at our place, Jet." The dragon turned and flapped away into the night.

The Captain, too, drew near and Loki held out his arm again. They placed their hands on his, and they left the same way they had arrived.

The apartment was dark. The trill of the cat was the only thing that kept Loki from stepping on him as his eyes adjusted first to the blackness, then to the light as the Captain turned on the spindly lamp. Lady Eleanore stumbled over to her gray chair and sank into it gratefully, holding her head in her hands. The effects of such travel were worse on weaker bodies, Loki recalled.

"Here," the Captain handed him a cold bottle of water, and gave a glass filled with purple liquid to the woman on the chair. He sat on the sofa and leaned back, relaxing imperceptibly. This place had that effect on him, while any time in the public eye was a constant source of tension. Loki was already noticing and learning these things, although he didn't want to because they were fairly useless in helping him escape.

He sat down in the brown leather chair and pulled out the history book again, wanting something to ground his thoughts before they could wander. He needed more control, or at least a distraction. That was disconcerting, but he was hoping the effects of the scepter would fade with time, as the Lady had hypothesized. Loki decided not to tell her she was right about his condition, imagining the smug expression such a proclamation would expose. It roused his anger again, and he began inwardly seething, book forgotten in his hand.

"Well, I'm going to go to bed," the Lady stood slowly and made her way to the bathroom where her movements were silenced by the spell. The Captain and Loki stayed where they were, and Loki did open the book to the correct page, making it through a few sentences about the Eastern Empire before the door opened again and the woman returned to the room.

"Goodnight," Rogers said, standing as well and making his way to the door. Loki did not reply, and the Lady only waved, filling her empty purple bottle with water from the sink. He left quietly and his door shut across the hall, the lock clicking into place.

Lady Eleanore walked around, feeding the cat and refilling his water, making sure the door was unlocked for the dragon's return, shutting off the lights in the kitchen, before she headed into her bedroom and closed the door without a word.

Loki rose and placed the book on the arm of the chair, knowing a good night's sleep was not likely in his future. Still, he turned toward his room and decided to try it. Perhaps such a taxing day would send him into dreamless slumber.

"Hey Loki?" He froze and turned toward the sound of her voice. She stood in the doorway of her bedroom, wearing a giant shirt and very short pants that showed most of her legs, hair falling out of its braid, eyes large with exhaustion.

"Yes?" he asked, thinking she had some task or other for him before she retired. It wouldn't do to let her control go lax just because he'd saved her life, oh no.

"Thanks for all your help today." She smiled at him, and he was taken aback. Thanked for everything as it happened, and then again when the day was done. That was new.

"I live to serve, my lady," Loki went with delicate sarcasm, thinking she might not actually be serious with the gratitude.

"No, I mean it," she leaned on the door frame and ran a hand through her hair. "You really helped us a lot, and I know you didn't always want to. So thanks. And please call me by my name."

"What strategy is this?" Loki asked, narrowing his eyes at her. She was a healer, his mother— Frigga— had said so, and it was true. She was manipulating him, drawing him into a sense of security to make him _feel_ better.

"What? Saying thank you? I do that to everybody." She looked confused, but Loki didn't let it fool him.

"You plan on becoming my friend, is that it?" he scoffed, letting his anger from before translate into his tone.

"Well I would if you'd let me," she admitted, cocking her head to one side. "But it seems like you don't want that right now, so I'll just stick with treating you like a person."

"A prisoner, you mean," Loki wasn't done. He _knew_ his place here in this realm, and he would not allow himself to forget it. He'd learned from experience that trying to fit in only led to hardship and heartbreak, with no thanks or rewards in the end.

"No, I know what I meant," she protested still, and it only made him angrier. "A person. That's what you are."

"You know _nothing_ of what I am!" he hissed, letting his magic seep to the edges of the room to block the sound of their argument. He knew he could not hurt her, but he did not wish the Captain to barge in and side against him as well.

"Asgardian, right? Stronger than humans, you live longer, you're all smarter than us and you can do magic." She rolled her eyes and Loki clenched his jaw. "I caught that act from your father."

Loki snapped, striding across the room to loom over her with his far superior height. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eye, the top of her head only reaching his shoulder. _Frost Giant, indeed._

" _Not._ My. Father." He spit each word as poison, because they hurt his heart as such.

"What then?" she clung to the door for support, her body weak from the day behind them, and still she challenged him to argue, to disclose.

 _What more than that?_ His own words bit into his mind, along with the despair that went with learning his true, horrible nature. Suddenly, he was again in the weapons vault, staring Odin in the face as he was informed that his royal birthright was isolation and death.

"A monster," he whispered, coming back to the staring dark brown eyes and the furrowed brow of a mortal witch.

She was looking up at him, understanding dawning over her face. Loki stepped back, realizing how much of himself he'd revealed. There was silence for a long time, and he did not know how to break it, to brush off his emotions and hide them. The skill he'd perfected over the centuries had deserted him in a moment of duress.

"Want some sparkling grape juice?" her voice came through brightly, and he looked up as she walked past him into the kitchen. She got two stemmed glasses from the cupboard, and a glass bottle from the ice box, opening it with a twist and a hiss. Yellow, bubbling liquid filled the glasses, and she turned back to him, handing him one before she sat down.

"Midgardian's intoxicants have no effect on me," Loki informed her, sniffing the beverage. The bubbles popped in his nose, and he took an experimental sip, feeling none of the burn that mead or mulled wine usually offered.

"It's non-alcoholic," Lady Eleanore explained, sitting back in her chair and tucking her feet in. The cat, who had hidden during their conflict, jumped into her lap and began rumbling away as she scratched its stomach with her free hand.

Loki took another drink and found he liked the taste. He settled into the brown chair stiffly, still feeling awkward from his previous disclosure.

"You don't have to drink it if you don't like it," Lady Eleanore assured him, setting her glass on the shelf above her head.

"It is not unpleasant," Loki held onto his, sipping occasionally as silence once again filled the room. This was different, though, somehow. Perhaps it was the cat's trilling noises, or the reclined position, or the warm light of the lamp, or any combination of things, but he felt much calmer and more at ease.

"My dad is an asshole, too." The unexpected revelation came in the middle of a drink, and Loki nearly choked as he looked over to find her staring into the distance.

"Pardon me?" The insult was not one he would use to describe either Odin or Laufey, but perhaps she put a different meaning to it.

"He's abusive. Not, like, hitting people, just _mean._ It's psychological, what he does. I never understood it when I was younger, and I still don't, but now I don't have to see him very often, so it doesn't matter as much." Her voice sounded sad, and she did not look at Loki, gazing instead at the wall across from her.

"What of your mother?" And wasn't _that_ the question he would ask? What of the mother? What of Frigga, who still called him her son?

"She's really nice. I try to act like her more than him." Eleanore glanced at him and grinned, then reached up and got her glass for a drink.

"What did he do?" Loki was curious. On such a complex, contradictory realm as Midgard— peaceful, war-torn, aggressive and kind— he couldn't imagine what sorts of things a parent would ridicule their child for.

"It was like… I can't even explain it, it sounds so superficial." She adjusted her position in the chair, turning to face him. The cat jumped onto the floor, displeased with the disturbance. "It's not like I wasn't good enough, because I knew I was smart… But everything I did was wrong? I think? I was so afraid to mess up that I was anxious around him. He'd get mad over the littlest mistakes and guilt me for hours. I'm not exaggerating."

"I believe you," Loki assured her, noting the pain in her eyes. She did not volunteer any more information, sinking into a flow of memories and staring past him at the brick wall. Loki didn't move, thinking of his own experiences. They sounded different. Odin hadn't gotten angry over small things, but Loki had never felt like he measured up to Thor. It all made sense, once his heritage was made apparent, but it was still troubling.

"I didn't tell you everything about mutants," she refocused on him with a frown.

"What did you leave out?" He was amused at the quick change of subject.

"I didn't try to hide it," she began, holding up a hand, "I just don't remember it all the time. Lots of people hate mutants."

Loki blinked at her, thinking back on all the times she'd used her powers that day. It seemed dangerous in light of this information.

"Not everyone," Eleanore clarified. "But there's people who think humans should just be human, no powers or anything."

"They are threatened," Loki recognized the meaning behind her words.

"Yeah, mostly." She took a long drink and sighed. "So I don't tell everyone about myself because I don't know which they are: threatened or okay."

"I see." And he did. He still wasn't going to tell her about being a Frost Giant, though.

They settled into silence once again, both deep in thought. Loki held himself ready for another surprise announcement, but none was forthcoming. They finished their drinks at around the same time, and Eleanore stood and stretched.

"I should really get some sleep," she glanced at the clock. _Eleven fifteen_. "Did you know there are extra blankets in the dresser?"

"I found them," Loki nodded, placing his glass in the sink, then hers when she handed it over. The kitchen was truly minuscule. Two people could not comfortably pass each other between the shelves and stove and cupboards.

"Okay good. Night," she waved at him, making her way to her room.

Loki did not wait for her to reemerge and tell him about her dead sister or some such similar tale. He went into the bathroom and got ready for bed, then went straight into his own room, shutting off the lamp as he passed it by.

The darkness was calming, and he felt actually tired as he changed his clothing and climbed into bed. He felt sleep descending upon him as soon as he closed his eyes, and for a while he was visited by dreamless rest.

 _ **A/N: So, this is a REALLY long chapter. I'm pretty happy with it though, showing an entire day from Loki's point of view. Poor guy needs some sleep, and I can sympathize with that. Anyway, please rate and review! Let me know what you think of Loki's perspective, and whether you think I got his character right, if you would. I'm always open to constructive criticism.**_

 _ **Have a great week!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	11. Chapter 11: S Cleaning Up

Steve woke up early from a fitful night of half-remembered nightmares. He sighed as he pulled on his exercise clothes, thankful that Eleanore seemed to have forgotten about that dream journal for the time being. The broken arm yesterday had brought up War memories, and Steve had spent his energy the previous night trying not to feel them too much so Elle wouldn't suspect anything. The flashbacks rested just beneath the surface of his mind, playing out in front of him whenever he lost focus. One moment he would be walking on the street, standing in Stark Tower, sitting in Elle's apartment, and the next soldiers would be shouting in French, mud would clog the sewers, men would be burning in front of him as Hydra's flame throwers and blue weapons claimed their lives. It was only the voices of others or something out of place in his peripheral vision that would center his mind again.

Steve let himself reminisce as he began to run, since there was always something to pull him back into reality. As Captain America, he had actually gotten hurt very seldom, despite the constant danger around him. He'd only been fighting for about a year when he'd crashed, so not much opportunity for injury had presented itself to the most advanced soldier of the time. Thus, the few times he'd gotten hurt in the field stuck out.

Once, on a simple mission against Hydra's goons, a rock had fallen and broken one of the bones in his leg. The medic splinted it right away, and Steve was up and walking in a couple of hours. For a while after, though, the Commandos had watched him strangely. Bucky said it was because they had forgotten Steve was human, and seeing him get hurt brought it back.

That had been the worst wound he'd gotten in the field, Steve recalled as he ran down the empty sidewalks along quiet residential streets. He used his morning calisthenics to familiarize himself with the neighborhood, doing different routes every day. Today he ran past a small park specially labeled for the use of dog owners about two miles away from home. He finished with weights at the gym and a slow walk back to the apartment building to cool off.

His watch read five thirty when he reached the top of the stairs. Steve checked because a sliver of light was shining from underneath Eleanore's apartment door. She never got up early if she could help it; Steve had teased her to come for a jog once and had received only rolling eyes and a cheerful scoff in response.

He walked over and tried the handle, and found it unlocked.

"Hey," Eleanore greeted him, looking up from a couch spread with papers and notebooks and texts. She was still in her pajamas — loose T-shirt and shorts— but she'd tied her hair back messily to keep it out of her tired eyes. Without makeup, she looked almost exhausted, the dark circles standing out against her pale skin. _Maybe she didn't fully recover from last night._

"It's early," Steve observed, taking in the rest of the apartment. The warm lamp was on, casting light in different directions. Loki was nowhere to be seen. Jet lay at Elle's feet, not even bothering to raise his head as Steve approached. Charlie trilled over from underneath the couch, rubbing against Steve's legs every time he tried to take a step.

"It's finals week," Elle informed him, smiling at the kitten. "I got my professors to let me take every test tomorrow, so I'm studying every spare minute I get."

"That means getting up extra early," Steve observed, taking a seat in her reading chair and stiffly adjusting as Charlie leapt into his lap immediately and curled up on his arm. The cat rolled over, and Steve tentatively scratched his stomach, and got an appreciative purr and another roll.

"He likes tummy squibbles," Elle said, ignoring Steve's jibe about early mornings, her voice rising into a strange mix of ridiculousness and uncharacteristic pronunciations.

"I guess," Steve agreed, grinning a little at the doting she lavished on the cat. "Loki hasn't showed yet?"

"No, I think he wants some time alone," she went back to scanning the laptop, her fingers scrolling on the track pad and clicking intermittently.

Steve lapsed into silence, focusing again on the cat in his lap and letting her study in peace. Charlie's purring, their breathing, and the clacking of the keyboard were the only sounds. Traffic noise hadn't picked up yet outside the window, and no machines were running, not even the refrigerator. After his night and morning full of painful recollections, this bright peacefulness was more than welcome. Muscles relaxed that Steve hadn't known were tense, and he could feel his forehead smoothing as he sat back and enjoyed the moment. If there was anything that the War and the past few days had taught him, it was to take every second of peace he could get, to rest up for the fighting.

Of course, it didn't last long. Charlie jumped as the door to Steve's left opened, admitting a stone-faced demigod dressed in casual Asgardian attire like the day before. Loki glanced around the room, his eyes lingering questioningly on Eleanore, who grinned at him, before he ignored them and went into the bathroom without a word.

"I should look into getting him some clothes," Elle muttered, typing again and not looking up.

Steve sighed, knowing he didn't need to answer that, and got up to go shower in his own apartment. He gently placed Charlie on the chair, and the cat curled up again, falling asleep almost instantly.

"I'll be right back," he said, getting a smile and a nod from Eleanore as he walked out the door.

His own apartment was lifelessly silent, nothing else breathing except for him. It was a relief when the humming of machinery or chirping birds or cars _swooshing_ past broke the stillness. Steve didn't linger, stripping without bothering to lock the door and stepping immediately under the cold spray of the shower. It turned warm gradually, and he lathered up and rinsed off in under five minutes. He strapped his old-fashioned— _analog_ , Elle called it— watch and threw his dirty clothes into the hamper as he walked into his bedroom. He chose a simple outfit for another day of reconstruction: a white T shirt over his uniform's leggings and boots. He picked up the top part from where it lay on his desk chair in front of his workspace-slash-drafting table and carried it out of the room with him.

Morning light was starting to fade through the blinds, so Steve twisted them open and made his bed with tight corners and clean lines. Once he was satisfied, he walked into the kitchen and looked around in the dark, his eyes adjusting easily. His gaze fell upon the tumbler-cups that sat on an open shelf under his microwave. Eleanore had recommended them for protein shakes. Steve grabbed three of them, then measured the whey powder — peanut butter-chocolate flavored — out in three servings. He emptied his milk carton filling the last container, but he shrugged it off, realizing he needed to go food shopping soon anyway. He shook each tumbler in turn and then carried them out of his apartment, uniform over his arm, locking the door behind him. _I can help with breakfast, at least._

Singing greeted him as he walked into the now-lively apartment. Loki was looking annoyed, sitting in his leather chair and scanning over the same book from the day before. Jet had taken over the couch, and Charlie was dashing about, cockeyed and crazy, zig-zagging around and across everything he could jump onto and push off from. Elle smiled a greeting and started humming instead of singing outright, watching a mushy pan of oatmeal come to a boil, now showered and dressed as well.

Steve's feet froze in place as he registered the tune. "I know that song." Memories of church gatherings with his mother, gentle hymns sung from old dusty books, dim lighting for late night services and early Sunday mornings. Sarah Rogers was a Methodist, but she took her son to both Mass and Protestant services in honor of Steve's late father, who was Catholic.

" _It Is Well With My Soul_?" Elle paused and looked him over, assessing his reaction. Steve just nodded, wishing she hadn't stopped. She wasn't the best singer in the world, sometimes missing notes or changing key, but her voice was pretty and he liked hearing the old, familiar song sung by someone he knew in this time. Usually he assumed what she sang or hummed was more modern, because he'd never recognized any of it before. "Protein shakes?" she noticed what he was carrying, and reached out, taking one of the tumblers and handing the other one to Loki.

"Thought I'd help cook," Steve joked, coming back to himself and covering his face with a small smile as the feeling of loss faded away. At least his mom had been gone before he'd gone into the ice. He'd had time to get past it.

"Thanks, these are great," Elle took a gulp of hers, then went back to stirring the pot of oatmeal. She started humming again, the same song, and Steve quietly took a seat at the counter, not wanting make her stop. He hung his uniform from his leg to get it out of the way and took a drink of his shake, sinking into the simple music.

After a moment of pure remembrance on Steve's part, Loki met his gaze, looking between Steve and Eleanore. Steve saw disdain and… something like hatred. Then the demigod went back to reading, avoiding eye contact. Steve watched him after that, the memories fading away as a present threat took over his conscious mind.

"What do you like?" Elle asked, pulling Steve from his observation and drawing his gaze to the steaming bowl she held.

"I'll get it," Steve got up quickly. He didn't like her serving him, even though he had figured out a while ago that she only did it to keep her kitchen as clean as possible. He got into the spice cupboard and came out with cinnamon and the small container of honey before taking the bowl and retreating back to the island. Charlie ran past, bumping into the corner as he rounded through the bathroom door.

"Cinnamon and sugar okay, Loki?" Elle asked, and Loki just raised an eyebrow and nodded. She put the ingredients into the bowl and handed it over. Then she fixed her own, scraping the last of the oatmeal out of the pan and making her way over to Steve. "My mom always put just brown sugar in mine," she explained, taking the bag from the counter and settling onto the opposite stool.

"So did you hear that song in church?" Steve asked, halfway through the meal. He was really curious. She'd never talked about religion or beliefs before, except to say she thought Loki should be helped and not punished.

"Yeah, my mom and I used to go. Back in Iowa—" Elle spoke around the oatmeal she'd been chewing, then swallowed. "We both kind of stopped going when we moved here."

Steve nodded understanding, mentally excusing her for talking with her mouth full. He was getting used to it because she did it all the time. "Methodist?"

"Congregational. But we never really talked much about it the doctrine," she shrugged. "You a Methodist?"

"Kind of," Steve said, remembering the Masses paired with the more open services. "I went to Mass and Methodist services."

"Double duty," Elle raised her eyebrows and smiled. Steve liked how she found nothing unusual about it. Kids in his neighborhood had often questioned his church attendance, since they were either devout Catholic or Protestant, and each denomination had a good amount of animosity toward the other.

A buzzing noise sent Elle scrambling into the bedroom, emerging with her cell phone held to her ear. "Hello?"

" _Eight again today, Princess?"_ Tony's voice was loud, even on the tiny speaker. Elle winced and turned it down, but Steve could still hear it, and he suspected Loki could as well.

"That's the plan. Why?"

" _Just confirming. Pepper picked up some duds for your new beau."_

"Tony." Eleanore's voice was a warning, but she only rolled her eyes. "Tell Pepper thanks. Why are _you_ calling, though?"

" _I'm hurt! Don't you ever want to talk to me?"_

"Is Darren still in bed?"

" _No, he's in the bathroom. Doing his daily duty. Has to empty himself so he's not too full of—"_

"Okay, I get it," Elle cut him off with a grin. Steve was almost affronted, but it was a private conversation. "Tony, you could stand for some of that treatment yourself."

" _Sounds like we all could,"_ Tony retorted. Something in the background started beeping, and Steve could barely hear it. _"Gotta go."_ The call ended abruptly and Elle shrugged her phone into her pocket.

"It's only quarter 'til seven now," she commented as she spooned up another bite of breakfast. "He's probably hyped up on coffee."

"In any case," Loki stood and walked around them, putting Steve on edge as he loomed behind Eleanore, then moving into the kitchen and placing his dish in the sink. "I assume they are willing to get an early start."

"You in a hurry?" Steve asked, challenging Loki's complacent attitude, wondering what he was up to.

"I merely wish to offer as much of my time as possible," Loki replied with a condescending smile.

"I'm going to put some supper in the slow cooker before we head out," Elle protested, stepping between the men and stealing Steve's empty bowl with a grin. "Pork roast." She stepped around Loki, who moved out of her way and into the living room again, got out the crock pot— the same model she'd recommended for Steve— and opened the freezer, unearthing a white package and unwrapping it. She put spices in with the frozen meat, along with a little water, and set the timer for ten hours. "Ready when we get home."

Steve mentally resolved to order takeout for the next day, especially since Elle would need to study that night. Maybe, once they had more time, he could learn how to cook a lot better. The problem was she was really good, and she didn't seem to have a method except for smelling things sometimes. Watching her throw ingredients and spices into a dish at random was not the easiest way to pick up the skill.

"Okay," Elle continued, placing the lid on the cooker. "I'll grab my suit and then we can surprise them early. I need to fix up my medic bag anyway."

"Sounds good," Steve donned his upper uniform as she walked into her bedroom. Jet breezed past him and out the door, dashing up the stairs to take off from the roof. Charlie had long since fallen asleep on the stack of notes that adorned Elle's reading chair.

Loki stood quietly in the living room, clearly waiting for them to join him. Steve approached and looked the other man over, trying to figure out his eagerness angle.

"Pleasant weather today," Loki greeted him, drawing Steve's surprise to a peak. _What the hell does he mean by that?_

"Yeah," he responded, trying not to hesitate. "The sun'll… help us see."

"Perhaps I can offer my services for the buildings' renovation as well, after the searches are done," Loki suggested, his eyes open and earnest.

Steve got it then. "Look, you don't have to convince me you're sane. Elle's the boss."

"Captain," Loki kept up the act, but Steve saw a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"Okay, ready." Elle came out of her bedroom wearing her suit with the helmet folded back. She examined the men in front of her with an expression of calm bemusement, then shrugged and walked forward. "You okay with transporting us, Loki?"

"My wish is but to serve." The sarcasm was obvious on that one, the dark-haired man's lip curling around the words, his eyes raised to the ceiling.

Steve bit back a grin and stuck his hand out just as Loki did, meeting him in the middle. This time, Steve could feel the slightest shift in the air around them as Elle placed her hand on top of Loki's. Then they winked out of existence and back into Stark Tower with bright sunlight shining through the living room windows. Or whatever this room was. Messed up, rubble-strewn, but the bar was intact so Tony probably still called it good.

"Hey," Darren was there to greet them this time, showing no sign of his earlier occupation in the bathroom. His suit was already on, too, and he looked ready for action, holding a clear tablet that showed a general layout of the city with markers showing where the worst of the damage was. "I was just planning with some of the ground crew via… this," he raised the tablet slightly, then walked over to join them. "Steve, there's no more buildings to search, but how do you feel about clearing the roads?"

"Sounds great," Steve nodded to him, not bothering to paste a grin onto his face. Darren and Elle had so far understood when he did and didn't smile, although with the younger Stark, it was less about noticing Steve's expressions and more about focusing on the conversation. Elle had commented once, in explanation, that Darren had learned to read nonverbals from machines, and from Tony, who often spoke and acted in two different ways.

"It looks like things are almost done from here," Eleanore commented, coming around to peer over Darren's shoulder.

"They are, actually. It's just road-clearing, then a long series of indoor renovations, which the building's owners will oversee. They all had insurance, with Starks as neighbors," The young man grinned, and Elle chuckled at his dark humor. Steve wondered if it was strange to have one's name on the side of a building, along with every piece of technology in use. Darren had probably helped design everything since he was old enough to speak, just like Tony and Howard. There were fewer news articles on him, but that was, Elle said, because Tony and Jana had done their best to keep him out of the limelight, both to preserve his childhood and to keep the public from noticing his alien side.

"Please, we bring up the market value." Tony entered from the elevator, suit clanking, carrying Elle's medic bag again. He tossed it to her and she started searching through it right away.

"Clothes?" she asked, with her head almost stuck inside the bag.

"Pepper's having them delivered this afternoon." Tony looked Loki up and down, "We'll play Asgard's Next Top Model."

"Shall I assist with clearance as well?" Loki volunteered, ignoring Stark, looking at Steve innocently, clearly keeping up his act. He was very convincing, but Steve didn't think it would last long.

"We need you to help out repairing the downed wires and the circuit boards that got fried in the Chitauri attacks," Darren informed him. "We're turning the power back on as soon as it won't start any more fires."

"So I'm on that crew," Elle spoke up, looking at Steve, who nodded. One of them had to be with Loki all the time.

"You can help organize the parts deliveries and whatever else," Darren agreed. "Jarvis, have Dummy bring Elle a tablet."

"Right away Sir." The cultured voice in the walls didn't shock Steve anymore. As soon as it finished speaking, a whirring motor noise approached from down the hall, and a robot that was just an arm emerged with an identical tablet in its grip.

"Thanks Dummy," Darren patted it on the head-slash-hand after Elle took the technology, and it chirped strangely before retreating.

"So let me guess," she started, pulling up a diagram of separate parts on the screen, frowning down at it. "You designed delivery drones last night, and that's why your dad is still awake."

"He was putting on the spinning rims," Darren acknowledged with a grin.

Elle rolled her eyes affectionately and kissed him on the cheek, then came over to stand in front of Steve and Loki again so they could see the map that she'd opened. It was labeled simply _Roads_ , and there were the streets of Manhattan crisscrossing in mostly green lines, with red and yellow spots and little symbols that increased in the three block radius around Stark Tower. Orange symbols showed where crews were currently working, and red and yellow indicated the degree of blockage that the road was experiencing. There were only a few red markers, and about ten yellow. Steve looked out the window and started envisioning finishing the project as quickly as possible.

A flash of wings cut through his thoughts, and Jet landed on the balcony again, perching with his back to the group, tail swiping through the air.

"Jet, do you wanna help clear the roads?" Elle half-shouted through the broken window. Jet turned around and gazed at her a moment before returning to gaze over the city. "He seems okay with it."

Steve looked around, making sure everyone who'd assembled to work was ready. "Let's get started."

After taking the elevator to the ground floor, the team split up to their respective jobs. Steve headed out to the nearest construction site he'd found on Elle's map, and the workers welcomed him right away, although they took more time to warm up to the dragon who accompanied him. He and Jet started moving slabs of concrete around when machines couldn't find a good grip on them, and throwing smaller pieces into a dump truck one at a time. The work made time fly by, and before long Steve found the sun far overhead, and he wondered how his team was doing.

"Hey," Tony landed next to him and easily overturned another chunk of mortar that Steve had been eyeing. "Want one of these?" He held out an ear piece, and Steve gratefully accepted it, wondering how many more of these Stark would give him before Steve would remember to bring them back. To be fair, almost everyone else had their communication devices built into their suits.

"Thanks," Steve replied, fitting the plastic to his ear and picking up a one-sided conversation from Elle about transferring materials " _carefully, thank you very much Darren, Loki don't encourage him."_ They sounded like they were getting along just fine. "Anything unusual out there?" Steve asked Tony as a cool breeze blew down the side of one building, chilling the seat on his face.

"If you mean anything other than that," Tony pointed behind Steve, and they both turned to fully face Stark Tower, which had a strange vortex of clouds forming over it.

"Another portal?" Steve put his hand up to the comlink, trying to warn his scattered teammates.

" _Loki says it's—"_ a flash of lightning cut off Darren's answer, and many more followed. The Tower was drenched in a column of blinding light, and from it emerged a familiar red and silver figure, flying in the other team's direction.

"Thor," Steve felt relieved at first, then remembered how much Loki hated his brother. A fight inside or around damaged buildings was going to lead nowhere good. "Tony, get over there and try to keep them apart. Jet, could I get a ride?" Tony took off immediately, and the dragon shifted around to allow him access to his scaly back. Steve took a deep breath, planning his jump as he went, holding on as Jet leapt into the air, streaking around and over the buildings.

They were close by, relatively speaking, and Steve hadn't slipped too much on the bright scales when he caught sight of Thor and Loki in each other's faces, Tony and Darren holding up their hands and talking at the same time. Elle had her helmet folded back again and was looking between the brothers, who were getting more agitated with each breath. Steve watched in fear as Loki raised a hand to strike out, and Thor moved to meet him. What neither of them saw was Eleanore jumping in between them, confronting Thor and shouting, drawing the angry Thunder God's attention to her. Loki faltered and stepped back, looking down at Elle in amazement as Jet landed in a cloud of dust about thirty feet away.

Steve jumped off as soon as the wings stopped moving, his heart in his throat, preventing him from shouting as Thor paused and furiously regarded the woman in front of him. She was still talking, but quieter, trying to calm everyone down. Loki was regaining his indignation, and Thor was staring over her head as she spoke. Darren and Tony were standing so still, like they thought not moving would keep her safe in this precarious situation. It looked like she was about to be stuck in the middle of an Asgardian battle.

Steve obeyed his instincts in this situation, drawing himself up and sliding to stand beside Eleanore, ready to push her out of the way. "Hey," he interrupted, and Thor turned to glare at him, breathing heavily. At least one's attention was on him, and Elle was blocking Loki from an attack. He couldn't hurt her. Probably. "What's going on here?"

 ** _A/N: A bit of an abrupt ending for a chapter, but I want to tell the next bit from Loki's point of view. I've been working on this one for a few days because I want to get a couple more chapters published before Finals time rolls around at the beginning of May._**

 ** _As always, please rate and review to let me know what you think of the story so far, and any guesses about future plans. ;) I don't guarantee answers, but guesses are always welcome._**

 ** _Have a great weekend,_**

 ** _PettyWhiteRose_**


	12. Chapter 12: L O' Brother, Where Art Thou

It was more difficult to calculate a working now that Loki had to worry about both the Captain and Lady Eleanore. He thought of teleporting, but the Starks were closing in and Thor would quickly be surrounded by people Loki was not allowed to kill.

"My friends," Thor responded boisterously to the Captain's question, still glowering somewhat. "I have come to inform you the Bifrost is repaired!"

Silence met his declaration. Loki could see no expressions, as Eleanore and the Captain were turned away from him and the Starks' faces were hidden behind impassive metal.

"That's good news, Thor," the Captain spoke again, louder than his normal tone. Loki realized, upon closer examination, that the Soldier's stance was protective even without his shield. Lady Eleanore was the same, her arms held out slightly not to keep Loki back, for she was not watching him, but to keep Thor away. _And what can they possibly hope to accomplish by sacrificing themselves?_

"I have come to check on my brother's progress," Thor continued slowly, staring Loki down over Eleanore's head.

"Did you talk to your parents before you made the trip?" she asked, drawing herself up, then stepping back to stand very near Loki. A dangerous location for anyone else, and she was completely untroubled. Now that he could see her face, Loki noted that she looked more strained by Thor's presence than he had ever seen her. Possibly verging on anger, though there was concern in her eyes.

"I presumed acceptance among my shield-brethren," Thor looked confused glancing around at his 'brethren'. Loki watched, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at Thor's semi-injured tone, trying to understand what he was seeing in the others.

An uncomfortable silence followed, and then Darren Stark stepped forward into Thor's line of vision, folding his visor back. "It's not that you're not _welcome,"_ he began softly, a peacekeeper among warriors. Loki recognized a little of himself in that action, the Loki from long ago, who'd been effectively killed over time. "Just… Elle?" Darren turned and nodded to let his lover explain the circumstances.

"Look, we need you to stay away from Loki." Lady Eleanore was authoritative, and Loki could see her grating like sandpaper on Thor's pride. "Nothing personal, bu—"

"You mean to keep me away from my brother." The dangerous, low tone and the heightening of energy around them made the hairs on the back of Loki's neck stand on end. He knew what was coming; Thor could not resist fighting for what he wanted.

Loki had had enough of mortals speaking for him. "I am _not_ your brother," he seethed through gritted teeth.

"See? Time." Eleanore interrupted Loki's willful continuation with a matter-of-fact tone. "I know you've missed him, but try—"

"You _dare_!" Loki hissed over her shoulder, planning every possible eventuality of her death in detail. "I need no mortal's protection. Step aside you useless harlot, and allow me justice."

Eleanore turned to face him, an appraising expression taking over her features. She looked Loki up and down calmly, and he could make out the thoughts turning behind her dark eyes. "No. I think we should talk about this later."

"You agitate him," Darren explained from behind her in a hushed whisper, stepping closer to Thor.

Of course, that only made Loki's anger flare higher, and he pictured peeling off the boy's skin as his woman, the healer, watched from behind bars of green fire. For the time being, he settled for stepping forward and standing above the insufferable wench menacingly, which put all the others on edge. Thor reached for his hammer, the dragon's tail twitched, the Captain tensed and turned slowly, his blue eyes widening in concern. Tony Stark charged his hand-weapons with a whining groan. Darren watched placidly, an expression of complete confidence on his face. Either he was a fool, or he trusted the magic that tied Loki to his witchling lover.

"You want to get back to work?" Eleanore asked quietly, her breath warm on his face as she tilted her head back in what must have been an uncomfortable position to look up at him.

Loki met her gaze and felt himself deflating. Thor was her friend, probably, or something similar enough that an attack would only serve to prove his powerlessness. His sneer turned down into a scowl, then a glare through which Loki tried to direct every vestige of hatred he felt. It was, in effect, useless, as she stood still and waited for his answer.

And what use was there in avoiding her hidden command? He was tired, somehow, in an unfamiliar and sluggish way that he'd only felt once before, after the rage in his cell. His mind, normally his first choice for a weapon, was nearly stagnant with slowly circling, ponderous thoughts and nothing new. Thor, magic, Eleanore, restrictions, no way around them yet. In some ways, he did not even want to fight. Loki's will fluttered against the restraints like a caged bird, but no solutions presented themselves. _I need to think._

Not speaking, staring at the ground, he turned and headed back into the darkness of the gutted building where he'd been working when the energy of the Bifrost had disrupted his concentration.

He'd been keeping his charade of civility well, considering he often thought of throwing Darren and Eleanore out of a window, or through a wall, or both. Eleanore was forever asking questions about how things worked, what when where, why this type of wire was preferable. Darren had answered each query in cheerful, annoying detail. Loki had learned more than he'd ever wanted to know about Midgardian electronics that morning. Whenever they laughed together in perfect comfort, standing so close to he who should have been their king, he had to quiet his fury and cover it with a blanket of calm. The day had gone very slowly that way, though the couple had seemed to enjoy each other's company, making jokes Loki didn't understand, quoting Midgardian words to each other, sometimes in strange voices, to evoke a chuckle. Loki had forced a smile from time to time when a witty remark from one of them was something he could appreciate. Once he'd joined Darren in a farce, pretending to throw fragile parts by making magical doubles of them and hurling them through the building's shadows. Eleanore had blanched momentarily, then scoffed amiably, scolding them both. Loki did not mind making her laugh, not when he could also plan for her screams of terror and pain. Besides, the trickery had brought up pleasant childhood memories of similar pranks that he'd quickly shut out, possibly to bring up later when he was alone. And right after that, Thor had landed in a cloud of dust and ozone and chased away every good memory from the edge of Loki's consciousness.

Standing in the shade of the building's entrance, Loki could still feel the lurching of his gut when he'd realized Odin and Frigga had not even given him three days to prove himself before they sent their only son to fetch the traitor they'd harbored for so long. Loki had launched himself from the structure with a growl, intent on facing his doom as a warrior, fighting all the way to Asgard if he had to. Then Eleanore had shrieked from behind him, and his arms went numb with a simple order of " _No!"_

Loki grit his teeth in restraint, bit back a verbal reaction in the quiet, musty structure. He could hear the Captain's steps approaching cautiously, but he kept his back turned. He could also hear Eleanore and Darren murmuring with Thor now in calm voices.

"… can ask Heimdall how we're doing, right?" Darren was asking, his tone gentle.

"Of course," Thor answered. "I simply wished to… To see my brother once more."

"I think a few months away from all things Asgard would help a lot," Eleanore spoke at her normal volume, which was easy to hear even from Loki's distance. "I told your mom and dad that."

"You OK?" The Captain asked, walking around to stand in front of Loki.

Loki did not speak in reply, simply raising an eyebrow, from which the other man could extract as much meaning as he liked. All Loki wanted was some quiet to hear the rest of the conversation outside.

"Your bravery is impressive," Thor was complimenting the only aspect he'd ever cared about.

"No," Lady Eleanore corrected him, "he wouldn't hurt me."

Loki's mouth turned further down as he bit back a sharp laugh. Because, of course, he _would_ hurt her. Eviscerate her at the first opportunity along with the rest of the Avengers and anyone who'd ever had any contact with Thor. Was she really so blind, or simply ignoring his intent?

"Uh, Princess? I'm thinking he would." Tony Stark spoke up with characteristic arrogance.

"Tony." Eleanore's voice contained a _glare_ , which was an impressive feat. Even Thor had to be in a killing rage to sound so angry, and even then he lacked the edge of a threat that Eleanore commanded. "No. He wouldn't."

 _What tactic is this, and for what strategy?_ Loki wondered, gazing at the Captain in front of him. The other man appeared to be listening to the conversation as well, eyes cast far away. Perhaps it was simply something the mortals thought would bring on his rage, or that he would see it as a challenge. Either way, Stark was correct.

"Whatever floats your crazy boat. I know, I know. Don't call him crazy." Stark sighed, "So Thor, you in the mood for a drink?"

"I am sorry, Stark," Loki could see Thor's head-shaking, downcast expression of disappointment clearly in his mind. "I should return to Asgard. There is much to discuss, now that the Bifrost is repaired."

"Have a good trip," Eleanore dismissed him cheerfully, just as Darren said, "Fly safe!"

Loki smothered a sudden grin, imagining the expression on Thor's face. No one had ever sent him off, and never had they treated him with such casual disregard. The two lovers would have been pulp, had they been speaking to the Thor of just a few years ago.

"Farewell my friends," Thor recovered quickly, though there was disorientation underneath his tone. A whooshing of Mjolnir and a gust of wind announced his departure, and thunder rumbled in the distance as the Bifrost once again descended to take the golden Son of Odin home.

"Back to work, slackers," Tony's suit blasted off, back to the random scouting flight pattern he'd adopted before and occasionally interrupted to help move some heavy debris.

"Steve, do you want to stay here or go back with Jet?" Eleanore called into the building's entrance.

The Captain glanced at Loki, then took a deep breath and headed out into the sunlight. "We're making progress over on forty-second."

"Have you had any lunch?" Eleanore was a woman who liked feeding people, that much was already clear from Loki's limited observations.

The Captain replied with the obvious " _Not yet,"_ and Darren ordered sandwiches to be brought with the next wave of drones. Again, footsteps approached Loki, but this time they were from his main captor.

"Hey," Lady Eleanore spoke softly from behind him. "Loki?"

He didn't respond, figuring she would take his reaction from his emotions, which were curiously distant and flat.

Instead, she walked around into his line of vision. Her helmet was off again, and he found himself looking into dark brown eyes shadowed by concern. "Loki?"

"I heard you the first time," his voice was smooth, calm, collected. Not how he felt, but good enough to assure most people of his sanity.

"I know," Eleanore grinned slightly and met his eyes. "I was just going to ask if you want lunch."

"I do not." He wasn't hungry. If anything, he was wound tight to the point of nausea. Loki had always hated confrontation, especially with people he knew. He'd only learned to hide it through years of training and decades of practice.

"Okay," she nodded looking around the dark, empty space. "You know, we're about done with this stuff. Want to head over and help clear the streets after lunch?"

A choice again, though not much of one. Loki knew from the work they'd done earlier that this building was one of the last that needed Stark expertise. Either way, in an hour or so, they would all be removing the last of the rubble whether he chose to or not. However, the physical labor might make him feel better after the tense non-skirmish. Now that he thought about it, his skin was prickling, almost itching to fight or to run. "I will attend you to the rubble."

"Great, I'll grab a sandwich and eat while we walk." Eleanore skirted around him and headed back into the sunlight.

Loki stayed a moment, gathering himself with a deep breath, before he turned and followed.

"All set?" Eleanroe was asking the Captain, who had just taken a bite of his meal. He looked at her in confusion before nodding. "Great, let's head back over. We can chew on the way." She gave the soldier a meaningful look, and he glanced at Loki, appraising.

Loki realized then that the witch was letting her actions be dictated by his emotions. At first, he felt another surge of anger, but then a logical thought struck through like a sunbeam through the clouds. _She is afraid of me. Of what I will do. Excellent._ If they acted out of fear, he could soon manipulate them with ease.

Hiding a grin, he walked up beside his two captors as Eleanore took a sandwich from the dwindling pile. Loki opted for silence, because it was more threatening than words.

"Want to meet us back there, Jet?" she asked, looking up at perhaps the only creature on this realm that would cause Loki any trouble should he find a way to break his bonds. The dragon blinked one, expressionless, and Eleanore seemed to take that as an answer, nodding briskly and turning away from the beast. "See you Darren."

"Bye, love you," Darren waved through a mouthful of food. Loki thought that their displays of affection were entirely unnecessary, but he only looked away. They were children, and on Asgard they would not even be allowed to court, not that had stopped Thor or himself in their younger days.

The Captain and Lady were walking away, so Loki followed, easily catching up with his longer stride. They moved in silence for a while, until a shadow flew over them, followed by a gust of air and power that sent an icy chill down his spine.

Loki froze and looked up, his heart in his throat, visions of Thanos and a new portal flashing through his mind in a panicked blur. Instead, he saw Jet arcing a graceful turn ahead, vanishing from sight. Eleanore and the Captain were both stopped, looking at Loki with concern, and he realized he'd shown a very clear reaction. He tried to bring his expression under control, swallowing once and breathing evenly. _So much for cultivating fear._

"You— uh," Rogers began, stepping within arms reach with a searching gaze.

"I am fine," Loki snarled, not bothering to control the irritation in his voice. He shrugged off their glances and walked ahead toward the intersection where the dragon had turned. He was infuriated to find his legs having trouble supporting him, and his hands shaking visibly. He clenched his fists, feeling more nauseated than before. His anger grew by the moment until it buzzed densely in his mind.

A wave of calm washed over him a moment later, and he whirled immediately to face the cause. Eleanore had been walking close behind him, and she skipped to a halt, helmet turned up to look him in the eye.

"Do _not_ ," he hissed, spittle flying from his clenched teeth to splatter on her shielding, "seek to control a _god_." His eyes focused on his reflection in her helmet, and for a moment he did not recognize himself. Eyes wild, jaw locked, teeth bared, shoulders tense. Loki was reminded of a cornered wild animal. _Is this what I have become?_

"Sorry," Lady Eleanore was apologizing, holding one hand to the Captain's chest to keep him out of the dispute. "Really, I'm sorry for that. I— it's just a habit. Please forgive me." She folded back her helmet once more, and Loki was again faced with large, earnest eyes.

"Forgive…" Loki trailed off, not knowing where that thought was headed. He took a step back and looked away, thinking. She was not lying, that much was certain. Loki had never seen her lie, but he'd done it often enough to recognize deception in others. She was truly asking forgiveness from him, though her eyes held no fear because, of course, Loki could not harm her.

Before he could get any further with his slow, meandering musings, Darren landed beside him in a cloud of dust.

"They're done clearing the rubble. The wiring is done, too. Dad wants to know if you guys want to come back to the Tower for a break." The young man surveyed the tense scene before him and cocked his head, "Everything okay?"

"I think…" Eleanore began, walking up and laying a hand on the younger Stark's arm, "we could use a quiet day back at the apartment. Want to come with?"

"Sure, Pepper's home, and ever since Dad came back through that portal, she's been kind of… hovery."

"Great. Steve, you okay with that? Jet, we'll see you at home!" That last part was shouted at the sky, where the dragon was now circling. It looked down for an instant and flapped quickly away.

"Sure, sounds good." The Captain sounded relieved, though Loki could not be sure which factor caused the relief; not having to deal with Tony Stark, or just getting back to the peaceful little dwelling. Either way, he knew what was coming next.

"Loki?" Eleanore raised her voice in a question, barely hesitant. She had spirit, he would give her that. Not many people could stand up to him unintimidated.

Wordlessly, he turned and walked back to the group, holding out his left hand. The others held on, and Loki felt his anger stir again at his return to the quiet little prison hovel. He yanked them through time and space, and let his anger make the trip as rough as possible. Really, it bordered on dangerous for the mortals.

When they regained their footing, all three of them sank to the ground on quaking legs. Eleanore put a hand over her mouth to hold back bile, and the Captain looked away, his face an interesting shade of gray-green. Darren held a palm to his forehead and breathed in and out slowly.

Loki left them to their pitiful recovery, turning and entering his assigned quarters and, finally, shutting them out.

 ** _A/N: Sorry for the long wait between chapters! I got done with finals, and now I'm in summer classes so I can graduate early. I keep telling myself it's worth it, but we'll see. Anyway, I'd love to hear what you think of this installment. I'll work really hard this week to get another chapter out. Self-appointed deadline: Friday._**

 **it-aint-my-division: _Thank you for your kind reviews! It's great to hear you're enjoying this story. I hope you like this chapter!_**

 **Everyone else: _Please read and review! Thanks for sticking with this thing for so long!_  
**

 ** _Thanks again,  
_**

 ** _~PettyWhiteRose_**


	13. Chapter 13: S Debate

The pork roast smelled great, but that was unfortunate because all Steve's stomach wanted to do was purge everything he'd ever eaten, seen, or smelled. He distantly heard Loki's bedroom door slam through the rushing in his ears, but after that there was silence. He forced himself to look up and around to get a handle on how his teammates were doing.

Darren was pale and shaky, his breathing shallow, sweat beading on his forehead. Eleanore was even worse, ashen, trembling, barely holding herself up with one arm. Steve already felt better than they looked, only a residual sickness turning his stomach when he moved. He allowed himself a few more moments of stillness, then got up and brought two glasses of water to the couple sitting on the floor. Charlie was weaving around their bodies, trilling for attention.

Eleanore tried to grin as she took the cup, but her lips quivered, and she ducked her head again immediately. Darren just grunted, which Steve took as a thank-you, and sipped at the beverage.

They were all quiet for some time. Steve took a seat on the couch and just let the others recover, watching to make sure neither of them tried to rush to the bathroom or anything. Charlie took the opportunity to jump into his lap and curled up for a belly rub. Steve complied, absently gathering the kitten in one arm like a baby and running his gloved fingers over the soft fur. He thought about Loki's reaction to Elle's lack of foresight, which was really a mistake on her part. He knew it was a habit for her to read people, and anyone could screw up, but she'd royally pissed Loki off when he was already tense and angry. Steve felt lucky they hadn't had another battle on their hands. He was sure she wouldn't do it again, but what impact had it had on Loki's recovery?

Steve sighed, shaking his head as the last of his nausea finally faded away completely. Darren was stirring, slowly rising from a sitting position to his knees to a crouch. He paused there, and Elle lurched next to him, standing slowly with her hands held out for balance. Darren stood and took her arm and they steadied each other, both still shaky and pale. They leaned together for a while, and Elle looked at Steve.

"I messed up," she acknowledged quietly.

Steve could only nod, since she seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. Lecturing her over it wouldn't help, but figuring out where to go from here would. "Any ideas about fixing it?"

"No easy fixes in communication. Only conflict management." She frowned and gazed at the floor, "Let's just let him be alone for a while and try not to bother him. He's got a sound barrier on his room, I think. I can barely feel him in there. And shit, I forgot his clothes."

Darren put his arm around her shoulders and gave a squeeze, then kissed Eleanore on the forehead. "It'll be alright." She hugged him back and they shared a loving grin.

Steve felt himself relaxing in their presence. He didn't know if it was Elle's affect, or if they just caused that sort of reaction when they were happy together. Either way, he liked it, liked both of them, and he knew things would work out.

"It's too early for supper to be ready. What do you guys want to do?" Elle asked, extricating herself gently from Darren's arms and reaching for the cat still purring on Steve's lap. "Hi baby kitty, how doos a good kitty baby…" her one-sided conversation devolved from there into mutterings and cuddles while Charlie purred even louder. She was his favorite.

"Steve, how's your laptop working?" Darren asked, giving the cat's head a scratch.

"It's great, thanks. I'll go get it." Steve was used to this. Whenever Darren came over, he asked how Steve's devices were working, and no matter how 'great' they were he found a way to make them better. Last time he'd taken Steve's phone apart and installed a chip to disguise its signal, both on wireless Internet and on its network. Elle had taken that opportunity to show Steve how the App Market or whatever it was worked, and helped him download a couple of programs for Internet browsing and secure texting. Steve changed clothes quickly, getting into jeans and a clean t-shirt, and grabbed his computer before heading out and locking his door again.

When Steve returned from his apartment, the couple had taken off their armor and were lounging around in comfortable clothes. Elle was sitting in her gray reading chair and petting Charlie with one hand while balancing a textbook titled _Organizational Communication: Approaches and Processes_ in the other. She was skimming the pages, turning them quickly, mouthing the words silently. Darren was pulling his toolkit from the air, something Loki must be able to do as well, Steve realized. The younger Stark held out his free hand and took the laptop from Steve, dropping to the floor and unscrewing the bottom plate, immediately engrossed.

Steve knew he wasn't likely to get much talking out of them at this point, but that was fine. He looked over the bookshelf, settling onto the couch with _America's Women_ by Gail Collins, which was a recommendation Elle had made early on. Reading it would give him something to discuss with her on a more equal level, he hoped. While she liked listening to his memories of the past, Steve couldn't always conjure new ones on demand. Most of the time, he settled on questions and notes from his history books and the Internet, asking about unfamiliar terms and a continuation of a vague subject. If she didn't know about it, Elle would help him find a 'credible source' that could tell him what he wanted to know. That, or the conversation would move to something she _did_ know about, and with Elle, knowledge was almost the same as passion. If Steve got her talking about something she disapproved of or believed in, they could go on for hours, and he could learn a lot. It was great, interesting conversation, but he knew she loved to read whenever she got a chance, and that not many people around her had read the same books. This might give her a chance to discuss this one, which she'd loved, and it would let Steve have a conversation about something they could both relate to.

Jet arrived quietly, and went into the bedroom where Steve heard him thump onto the floor with a deep sigh. Maybe flying wore him out. It was also almost time for to feed him.

As he got into the history of women since the Colonies, he was struck immediately by the absolute lack of men anywhere in the book. Their only mention had to do with their wives, and whether they supported or opposed them. Even Abigail Adams' husband, the second president of the United States, was only mentioned in passing, and as it related to his unwillingness to make women equal in the Constitution. That, Steve supposed, was the point the author was trying to make, since women rarely were mentioned in traditional history texts. He could see why Elle liked it. She'd filled him in lightly on feminism one night after an old movie in which the woman depended on the male protagonist to rescue her. Steve had listened and understood, recalling Peggy's struggles to be taken seriously, having seen how Eleanore was treated by Senator Teague and Doctor Rouldkin. He thought, though, that women had made pretty great strides since he went into the ice, and he knew Peggy had worked hard to help with that. It was kind of shocking, as he read, to see how unusual it was for women of the past to voice an opinion on important issues, to work as hard as a man, to excel in anything but homemaking. It was also interesting to see how society had changed in times of hardship, like when people first colonized the East Coast and women were viewed as strong and hardworking helpmates to their husbands, versus only a few decades later when they starved themselves to appear more 'womanly.' Steve thought, from his view of the super-thin women of modern times, that America had come full circle.

A couple hours later, after Darren had his laptop taken completely apart and put back together, and once Elle had gone through each of her textbooks a couple of times, Steve rose and walked into the kitchen to get a drink. He heard the other two stirring behind him, and Charlie trilled as he jumped off the chair and hit the floor with a _thump_.

"How's supper looking?" Elle asked, coming up beside him as he took a gulp of water. She opened the lid on the slow cooker and a cloud of steam wafted up, along with amazing scents. "Almost done." She put the lid back on and slid around Steve to get to the pantry, where she pulled multicolored rice and a couple large cans of green beans out and put them on the counter. "Could you hand me the big and medium pots from up there?" she pointed, and Steve reached easily to get the containers and set them on the stove. Elle pulled water into the big one, and handed Steve a can opened from the drawer to her left. "Please?"

"Sure," Steve nodded, going to town on the cans. This can opener was almost exactly the same as one he'd had in his childhood, further proof that some things didn't have to change. He poured the vegetables into the medium pot as Elle turned the stove on and poured olive oil over the watery rice. He retreated when she moved around him to get garlic and butter out of the fridge, sitting down at the counter to observe what he could of cooking.

"Want me to tell Loki supper's almost ready?" Darren offered, looking up from the computer screen and closing the laptop. He rose from the floor stiffly, stretching, and handed the device to Steve. "Anonymity online now, and I gave you a copy of one of my favorite games."

"What's that?" Steve asked, feeling a little honored that Darren was sharing things with him, too, even if Steve didn't know the first thing about playing a computer game.

"Halo. It has a great plotline, and the gameplay is awesome. I'll bring you a controller next time, and we can play one on one if you want." Darren sounded excited about it, and his face lit up like when he was discussing his latest invention ideas.

Steve wasn't sure how he'd do with actually playing the game, but he was willing to give it a try. "How's it work?"

"There's a set of keyboard keys you can use to move around, and it takes some getting used to. But with the controller, it's more intuitive. Like I said, I can bring one next time I see you."

"Sounds good," Steve nodded agreement.

"Do go tell Loki about supper, if you can get through the sound barrier." Eleanore was stirring the rice around, and it looked almost done. The green beans were boiling along nicely too in their sea of butter and spices. "Don't startle him, though."

"I won't," Darren promised, walking up to Loki's door and staring at it for a second before raising his hand to knock.

Before his hand reached the door, it jarred open to reveal a glowering Asgardian. Loki looked down on the man in front of him, then glanced around, meeting Steve's eyes and glaring at Elle's back. "How may I be of service."

"Supper's just about ready, and it's really good." Darren informed him calmly, grinning up at the irate demigod. "Meat candy and buttery green beans and the good rice."

Loki looked repulsed at the mention of meat candy, but he stayed standing there while Darren described the rest of the food.

"He means the pork roast is good when I cook it this way," Elle clarified over her shoulder, shutting off the burners and taking the lid off the cooker to set it aside. "I think— yep, there's enough chairs for all of us. No table, though."

"So, want some food?" Darren pressed Loki, who was still on the edge of the doorway, neither in or out.

"If your insist," Loki hedged, stepping into the living room.

Elle set out plates and silverware, and Steve got in line to serve himself. He sat back at the island and waited until everyone else was settled, Loki in the brown leather chair, Eleanore and Darren on the couch, to begin eating. Jet wandered out of the bedroom and went to lay down in front of the hallway door, resting his head on his paws.

'Meat candy' was actually a pretty accurate description. It wasn't sweet, but the pork had been cooked so long that it was almost caramelized, and it fell apart when his fork touched it. The rice and green beans were seasoned with garlic and pepper, going well with the meat. Steve made himself eat slowly, wanting to enjoy every bite. He looked up a moment later and found Darren already heading back for seconds and Elle laughing silently at Steve's impressed expression. Loki ate slowly too, taking time to be neat and polite, even as his plate sat in his lap and Charlie constantly tried to jump up to join him. The demigod would patiently brush the cat aside every time he put his front legs against the chair. Steve saw Eleanore watching the exchange as well, out of the corner of her eye. It was fascinating, really, to see the man who'd blown up tall buildings and thrown Tony out a window being gentle with the small animal.

But then, Steve thought, Elle had seen something good in him. Frigga still loved him, too, and Darren wasn't afraid for himself or for the love of his life in Loki's presence. Maybe Loki just needed some faith. And a place to be safe. And time. Time away from Odin, for sure, and maybe away from people who expected the worst from him. That would be tough, but Steve could help make the second chance work.

Charlie let out a frustrated _meow_ , and Eleanore absolutely melted at the sound. "Aw! Come here, kitty," she held out a tiny piece of pork, and the cat darted right over. She held the food above his head so he sat up and ate it from her fingers. "Oh, poor baby only gets dry food. How could Mom be so cruel?" Charlie trilled, done with that bite, and asked for more in his cutest possible manner. "No, not now. Later. Just calm down, I know you still have your own food." The kitten slouched away and lay in the middle of the floor, licking himself calmly. "Good boy."

"You're going to spoil him." Darren nudged her with his elbow, his tone teasing.

"He's a good baby doos," Elle replied matter-of-factly. "He deserves a treat sometimes. Look, he's not even begging anymore."

True enough. Charlie was done licking himself, and just lay still, blinking slowly around the room to meet the eyes of every occupant.

"Yeah, but he will. Just wait."

"You've never had a pet before, how would you know?"

"Dummy begs! Ask my dad."

"Faulty programming. Charlie _learns_. He's smart."

"Smarter than a robot?"

"Smarter than a one-armed, clumsy robot."

Steve grinned slightly, listening and privately agreeing with some points from each side. It was nice spending time with Elle and Darren because, while they argued like an old married couple, there was a lot of love in their tone. And they were both funny when they wanted to be.

"I'm programming you a cat robot when I get home," Darren threatened. "You won't be able to tell the difference."

"Yes I will," Elle was giggling, probably at the gross mental image of a cat robot.

"How?"

"It won't shed."

"I'll make it shed _extra_ , with special fur replacements so you're always just covered in cat hair no matter what you do."

Eleanore was laughing outright now, covering her mouth with one hand to keep from spitting food everywhere. Steve's grin grew into a full smile.

"Name it Sparky," he suggested, which drew more laughing and a mischievous grin from Darren.

This was good. It was Steve's favorite kind of camaraderie, and it made his heart feel light after weeks of intensity and bouts of loneliness. Nothing was wrong here and now, in this apartment where aliens and a mutant and a science experiment were eating supper and relaxing together. In this mood, it was easy to push aside the problems of the world. Real laughter from people he trusted was infectious, bright, satisfying some place deep in Steve's heart that was always aching lately. They expected nothing from Captain America here, though they knew each alter ego fairly well. They took Steve Rogers in stride, with all his imperfections and ignorance of the modern world, with all his problems dealing with everything. That was a lot of meaning to assign to just one brief burst of humor, but the thoughts ran through Steve's mind quickly, leaving him feeling peaceful.

He glanced at Loki, momentarily feeling closer to the silent Asgardian, and only found blank disdain in his features. The contrast brought Steve back down to reality, and he realized everything he and his team would have to deal with, both inside and outside, on the battlefield and off. Loki was one of the least of their worries. From what Steve could tell, powerful villains were becoming more and more normal, and many of them knew how to use governments and citizens to their advantage. It was a new, if not higher, form of war, and one Steve had only a little experience with. The Nazis has only had ten percent of Germany on their side, and they accomplished historical mass killings. The US dropped two huge bombs as experiments on live people in Japan, and the results from that were catastrophic. Current wars were impossibly messy, and it seemed like no one ever had the whole story. The Avengers would have their work cut out for them, not getting aligned with political parties or societal declarations of intolerance. It would be tougher to tell who the enemy was. Steve was counting on his gut feelings and his team's savvy to keep from making the wrong choices under pressure.

These sobering thoughts stole the grin from Steve's face, even as Eleanore and Darren kept teasing each other and drawing up plans for the robotic cat. He opened his laptop and set his plate to the side, typing modern political search terms into the Google page (Darren had made a face the first time he'd heard Steve say 'the Google' but he hadn't explained, and Elle had been in the other room, so Steve had no idea what was wrong with the statement). He started looking into political sponsorship, which was something that gave Eleanore the most cynical, sarcastic tone in the world. After just a few minutes of research, Steve could see why. Nearly every politician, left and right, were bought out by corporate interests. The few that weren't were basically ignored, their (interesting, caring, correct) views cast aside in the interest of passing bills that favored the elite.

He saw a link to a website promising more information and clicked on it, and before he knew what was happening, a video had started playing at full volume, cutting through the quiet conversation going on in the room. Steve felt his face heat up as he hurriedly paused it and met the three pairs of curious eyes that turned toward him.

"What are you looking at?" Eleanore asked, getting up and coming around the counter to peer over his shoulder.

"Just… politics." Steve gestured to the screen, where a couple people were sitting in front of a news desk, talking about political corruption.

"Oh, The Young Turks. I watch this sometimes."

"What is it?" Steve asked, surveying what appeared to be just a video online of a news team.

"An independent news network. They try to focus on what's actually going on, instead of the stories the media gatekeepers want you to hear. Different perspectives. I wouldn't say unbiased, because they're all fairly liberal, but I like them because I'm liberal." While Eleanore was explaining, Darren came up behind her and began nodding along with her statements. "They're covering the election pretty in-depth this year, between Obama and Romney. I think Obama is going to win, though."

"How often do you change leadership here?" Loki spoke up for the first time, rising and depositing his plate and silverware in the sink. He walked over and stood at the junction of the living room and kitchen, just barely a part of their group.

"In America, every four to eight years for the President, but there are no real term limits for the House or Senate, which is a _huge_ problem." Darren was as interested as Eleanore was in politics and system reform. They would talk about starting their own country sometimes. Mere wishful thinking for the most part, but they had good theories about how a political system should be run. "They should all have pay reductions and strict term limits. That way only the people who _want_ to change things could be in power, and only for a short while."

"Would it not be simpler to have a monarch?" Loki asked idly, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head.

"In some ways, yes, for people who don't want to think too hard about their choices." Elle answered, going into her debating mode. This was different from information-sharing. Her breathing quickened, she got incredibly focused, and she bit the inside of her cheek when she was thinking. She was also more prone to interrupting in this state of mind. In this case, Steve liked her answer, but he still got ready to pull her out of harm's way if she made Loki angry again.

"But you may be happier without having to worry about the changes so often, even in your short lifetimes," Loki pointed out. He was trying to make a case for ruling Earth, Steve knew, but he was going to get shot down pretty quickly with all three of the people in the room against it. "You could focus instead on more personal pursuits."

"These are personal pursuits for us," Darren pointed out. "We want a say in what happens to our country, and we want every voice to matter."

"But if you had a benevolent ruler who took care of such concerns…" Loki smiled conspiratorially. He was just trying to pick a fight. Steve decided to let the debate go on, though, if only to bring that smug attitude down a notch.

"That's the problem," Elle butted in, gesturing generally with her hands. "The word 'tyrant' didn't use to have a negative connotation, but over time, with worse and worse rulers being born into power with no understanding of how everyday people lived, it turned into a term for an evil leader. You get a nice tyrant, then sure, things are good for a while. But people die unexpectedly. Get a mean one, or one that doesn't like a certain group of people, and you've got genocide."

"But with a ruler who is practically immortal," Loki rebutted, "One could be sure of his values for the duration of his rule. And in some cases, a certain amount of dislike is justified."

"But a king could make mistakes," Steve interjected, thinking of his musings on modern wars and ties. "That's why we have the system of checks and balances in place— so no one person has the power to step over all the people. And while dislike is fine, murder isn't."

"Any mistakes a ruler made would also be repaired by said ruler. Hypothetically, of course." Loki smiled bigger, seeming to enjoy himself. _Maybe he likes to debate._

"People might die from a mistake. No ruler could fix that." Eleanore was frowning, giving a softened version of _the look._

"People die every day in the name of unworthy causes. To change that, you would have to change human nature."

"Person nature," Darren objected. "Or something. Because people other than Earthlings have been involved in pretty stupid conflicts."

"The Ice War," Loki agreed, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"And the Alfheim-Svartalf wars. They accomplished nothing." Darren was citing things Steve knew nothing about, and he was impressed. The young man, like Eleanore, had a wealth of hidden knowledge that seldom came up in conversation. When it did, he could shock the most calm debater.

"Asgard acted as a mediator then, and now." Loki pointed out, clearly expecting that sort of rebuttal, "Another example of how a steady ruler can improve life for all."

"So you agree with everything your dad's done?" Elle was treading dangerous waters now.

Loki's eyes flashed, and he surveyed her with disdain. "He is the King of Asgard, and _not_ my father."

Steve raised his eyebrows at the amount of venom in Loki's voice when Odin came into the picture. "But he's probably made some bad calls, right?"

Loki looked around at all of them, green-blue eyes drawn in fury and something that looked a lot like pain. Then, he smiled. It was more like baring his teeth, his lips stretched across unwilling muscles, the rest of his body posed for murder. "I suppose he has."

"What we're getting at is that one man having that much power often doesn't turn out well," Steve spoke up, trying to keep the dangerous attention on himself.

"Then what would you suggest?" Loki asked, his expression becoming slightly less murderous. "Because, from what I have gathered, no Midgardian government is perfect."

"No," Darren agreed.

"We want to instigate the change of attitude that could lead to improvement of leadership," Elle went into information mode, eyes lighting up with ideas. "It would take more than my lifetime, but if we could start with the basics: increased value on education, increased empathy toward our fellow man, a non-privatized prison system, basic human rights like universal health care. Things that, over time, would become normal. Once people take something for granted, they'll fight really hard if it's taken away."

"So, instead of letting a powerful ruler implement these drastic changes, you are willing to work for them your entire life and die before they come to fruition." Loki looked Elle in the eye, disbelieving.

"We're not doing it just for us, though," Darren added. "We're fine, really. We have so much more than most people. It's for the future. It's for generations, so we can pass on a better world."

Steve felt proud of his friends. He hadn't heard them talk about these subjects in-depth yet, or in a realistic manner. Sure, imagining a perfect country was fun, but they were willing to create the better place where they were. They were young and driven. Inspired and inspiring because disaster hadn't really struck them yet. Sympathetic to their fellow man, willing to pay their effort into improving life for everyone. They weren't greedy, Eleanore because she hadn't grown up rich, and Darren because he had. Steve could see why they were drawn to each other— two opinionated, ambitious freedom fighters who would have significant swaying power over society when the media got to them one day. They'd use their power to further their strong sense of right and wrong and compassion and tolerance.

Loki just looked at them for a moment, probably seeing if they were lying or exaggerating. Steve didn't blame him— it was easy to talk about change, but another thing entirely to make it happen. "You will never see the outcome of your work."

"We'll see a little of it. We'll be able to tell if it's working, after a while." Elle smiled, glad he was getting the point.

Steve absently wondered if he'd live to see their results.

Loki rolled his eyes and turned away, back to the leather chair, settling in with a sigh. "Let me know if you change your minds."

"We will," Elle laughed, although Loki wasn't really joking. "So, who wants a movie?"

They spent the rest of the evening watching _The Truman Show_ , which Steve really liked. The technology was understandable, even for him, and Truman's search for himself was relatable on a personal level. Steve frowned when the director set himself up as God, but he was really happy when the woman Truman loved made it through the crowds. It was a promise of a better life. Steve wondered if, like Loki said, Truman would find out he was happier in the world where most things were stable, uncomplicated, or if he liked the unpredictability of the outside world. Either way, Steve thought he should have a choice.

Darren decided to stay the night, and Steve departed after that, figuring they'd like some alone time, or study time since Elle mentioned her exams set for the next day. He went back to his quiet apartment and tried sketching the expressions of the debaters, thinking over the discussion as he did. He realized, with a start, that Loki had talked to them about a personal subject that he disagreed with them over, and no one had even yelled. Sure, there was that tense moment when Odin was mentioned, but Loki had held it together. Maybe that was a sign of healing. Or maybe he'd felt the affects of the magic that wouldn't let him hurt Eleanore or Steve or their friends. Either way, it was encouraging. There would still be tough days ahead, of course, but this might work out after all.

Steve went to sleep with images of Eleanore and Darren running for president (which one didn't matter, but Steve thought Elle was a better public speaker). They fixed the school system, raised wages, and implemented term limits so the people could have a voice again. He smiled as he drifted off, feeling excited about the changes he'd get to help with in this second chance of a lifetime.

 _ **A/N: Thanks to everyone who's still reading this story! sorry for the long delay. I'm taking summer classes, and they are intense to say the least. The weekends help me get a lot of writing done.**_

 _ **I understand that this chapter has significant political views that may be disagreed with, and that's fine. People have different outlooks on life, just like Loki and Steve do. I like to make my characters passionate about their opinions, so they will talk about them from time to time. This isn't meant to be an overly-political story, so more plot will, of course, follow. I just think that characters would have an opinion about their current situations, and I liked writing the discussion they had. Sorry if anyone is offended, and I'd be more than willing to have a discussion on these points if you leave me a review or PM.**_

 _ **Thanks again for reading, and I hope you have a great weekend!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	14. Chapter 14: L Sparring

Loki stayed up all night alternating between reading the history book and thinking about the debate. The lack of sleep would not bother him much, and he wished to avoid another regressive nightmare, which would only highlight his pitiful mental state. Between that and his strange new reaction to rage, he was practically a stranger to himself. He wanted time to get to know what was new, to see if anything would fade or change further, or if the magic of Odin had affected him in other ways. He'd reinforced the room with magical barriers meant to protect him from any outside threats, then settled into the small desk chair and folded his hands under his chin to think.

There was some merit to what the mortals had mentioned, in terms of improving Midgardians' lives, but he still thought a single ruler would nicely wrap up all the grievances and impose order and graciousness upon this overpopulated realm. While Eleanore was right, and he disagreed with some of Odin's choices - namely taking in a Frost Giant child and raising it as an oblivious, disguised monster - he appreciated the direct obedience that such leadership commanded.

With the quiet and time to ponder, he even planned out how to accomplish such drastic measures, using the more intelligent and driven of his subjects to organize the minutiae, mind controlling them with the scepter to bring about peaceful control in mere months at most. Minimal threats, minimal deaths, maximum benefits for his kingdom. Midgard was full of short-lived potential, and Loki would harness every bit of it into making them stronger, powerful, more protected. For Thanos would target this realm sooner or later, probably within his mortal captors' lifetime, and Loki would likely be left to deal with the fallout such a threat would cause. In fact, attacking Midgard made perfect tactical sense, as this tiny backward realm was under Asgard's protection, and they would open the Bifrost to send warriors and possibly their powerful weapons in defense of the humans. And mutants. And other super-humans. Most of whom would likely battle with all they were worth for their planet, with their impossibly strong sense of fidelity and nobility.

Yes, Thanos would attack here. But he would have a fight on his hands, whether Loki was in control of the mortals or not. Looking at their history, the humans had made mincemeat of each other over the centuries with increasingly advanced weaponry until they came to a virtual stalemate, pointing missiles from country to country that would destroy all life if they were ever launched. Those alone would be excellent for deterring an attack from above their atmosphere. One had certainly stopped the Chitauri, though, Loki smirked, the foolish World Council had intended it to end the island where the attack had been staged, killing their own people without hesitation. Humans were a diverse lot in terms of loyalty and principles.

There was no reason Loki couldn't control them in more subtle ways, though. The very fissures in each organization, including SHIELD, were stepping stones that could help him climb to the top and pull their puppet strings. Slipping them information on Thanos' imminent strike would be the first step. He would let that ferment until their fear was ripe, and then they would come to _him_ for advice, for weapons development, for battle plans. He would gain power over them through trust, and eventually he would be a ruler in all but name. The name could come later, after he'd amassed enough followers to stage a tour of world domination, as Stark had put it days earlier.

But, for now, he would start small and use his patience to his advantage. These mortals who claimed him as one of their own were the first level of his deception, and he would have to act carefully to gain their true trust. Of course, Lady Eleanore had expressed confidence in him already, as had Darren. The Captain was wary, but only in the interest of protecting his friends. If Loki could win him over, then the rest of the Avengers would follow more readily. He'd have to really protect them, help them, do as he was ordered to keep up the illusion of reform. The thought rankled, but not as much as the notion of awaiting Thanos unprepared.

Loki noted the time, already close to dawn, and began steeling himself for the day ahead. Lady Eleanore would be taking her exams, whatever that meant. She'd certainly studied enough, once the Captain left, pulling out her books and pouring over them while the younger Stark had written in a notebook in comfortable silence. After an hour or so of that, they'd gone to bed together, which would have been an unacceptable travesty on Asgard with children so young, but which they seemed to think was normal. Loki had to admit they were committed to each other in an undeniable way. In some respects, they acted much older than their years warranted, speaking in cynical, experienced tones when faced with passionate subjects, eagerly supporting each other, working tirelessly to accomplish what some would consider menial labor. In other ways, they were obviously, hopelessly young. Their expressions of affection, their idealistic outlook, their confidence in their fellow man, in Loki himself. Loki saw his past self in them more than he would ever admit. He also knew that life's unkindness would soon quash their hope in its own devastating ways. All the better for gaining their trust, if he was there when they needed outside support.

Loki shook his head and focused again on what the day might bring. Until he got used to Lady Eleanore's routine, he would take everything one day at a time, reacting and planning as he learned and gained experience in the mortal world.

There was stirring outside his door, and Loki stood, drawing his hand down his body to change his clothes and refresh his body. He checked himself over in the mirror, and pronounced the effects satisfactory. He'd lost flesh during his uncounted time as a prisoner, but he was rapidly recovering. His cheeks were not so hollow, and his body was completely healed. Only his eyes troubled him, the pale orbs filled with a dangerous light that he'd never seen before. Loki wondered if others saw it too, or if it was a projection from his mind— a reminder of all he'd been through and how he'd changed.

Shrugging mentally, he turned and opened the door, letting the magical shieldings partially fall away as he stepped into the main room. Eleanore was there on the couch again, engrossed in a notebook and her computer simultaneously. She looked up when he walked in and smiled a greeting.

"Morning. Did I wake you up?"

"No," Loki shook his head. "I was already awake."

"How'd you sleep? Any more bad dreams?"

"None," Loki said truthfully, avoiding the fact that he hadn't slept at all.

"Sorry I forgot about picking up your clothes yesterday." Loki shrugged off the apology, as he had his own perfectly comfortable clothing, but Eleanore ignored him and continued, "Darren got Jarvis to modify a drone overnight, so they'll be delivered sometime today."

"Thank you," Loki said, not knowing what she expected him to feel about that. He was neutral, verging on disapproving, thinking that Midgard's mass-produced goods would fit him ill and end up being more of a disguise tactic than anything he'd want to wear. When he'd appeared in Stuttgart, he'd modeled the illusion of his clothing after designs he'd long favored, only giving them a few tweaks to blend in. He eyed what Eleanore considered comfortable — very short pants, oversized, unflattering tunics, bare feet — and hoped she'd had no say in his styling choices.

"You're welcome," she turned back to her book, wrinkling her brow in concentration.

Loki looked around, at a loss for what to do, and lighted on the steaming pot of coffee sitting on the counter. He walked over and opened the cupboard, surveying the handled cups that seemed to be customary for hot beverages. He found a green striped one of varying shades, and selected it with a small grin. He poured the coffee first, then added a bit of the dried dairy product and just enough sugar to make it bearable. Then he walked over and sat down in the leather chair he'd already started to favor for its familiarity and comfort. He mentally checked himself. _You should not be identifying with any furniture here. Not with anything. You are a conqueror, and everything other than your plan is a distraction._

He looked over at the woman responsible for his presence on Midgard in the first place. Still calmly distracted by her studies in some certainly useless subject, unaware of the seething Loki was doing just feet away. The cat wandered in and leapt into her lap, stepping slowly over the book and taking over with calm presumption.

"Hi, honey," Eleanore's voice changed strangely when she spoke to the animal, rising in pitch and ridiculousness. She set aside her book and gave attention to the rumbling little creature.

"What do you study?" Loki asked, once the silence had stretched for a moment. He didn't necessarily want to know, but understanding was key to undermining.

"Communications. Theories, mostly, this last semester." She reached a thinner book across to him, and he took it.

 _Interpersonal Conflict_. Loki opened it and scanned the pages, finding tactics for engaging in 'conflict management' and respectful discussions. She'd used these tactics on him, whether consciously or unconsciously. They were largely common sense, only putting names to things Loki had mastered long ago. "How many years have you devoted to learning this… subject?"

"Two and a half." She made a face. "Would have been less if I didn't have all those pesky credit requirements to fill, too."

"Why not devote your time to something more—" Loki drew himself up short and thought about whether he wanted to offend her or not. Decided he didn't care. "More useful? Advancing your limited understanding of the universe, for example."

"This _does_ advance our knowledge. Of each other, for one thing. I can see what you're saying, though." Eleanore was not acting offended, only thoughtful. "I've wanted to work for SHIELD for a long time, or something similar, but my mom made me promise to go to college, so I sped through it on the fast track of a degree that I thought might come in handy someday."

"You wish to be a SHIELD soldier," Loki looked her over. She was a warrior who'd survived the Chitauri invasion, but she did not seem like someone who actively sought out violence.

"I want to help people," she corrected him, meeting his gaze.

"That's where I come in, I suppose." He kept his face calm and raised one eyebrow, daring her to object.

"I suppose so," she grinned. "I didn't plan on you, specifically, but life never goes as you plan."

"It does if you are careful," Loki muttered, thinking of all the well-rehearsed strategies he'd used to manipulate people in the past. Though one that had mattered the most had spectacularly failed: Thor going to Jotunheim. Loki had never wanted to cause that much conflict, only to make Odin see that his oldest son was not prepared to rule.

"You can't predict everything," Eleanore pointed out, backing up the mistakes Loki had made.

"Perhaps _you_ can't." He was drawn into dark reflection. He _hadn't_ planned enough, and things had gone awfully awry. But he'd also unearthed a truth about himself, one that had remained hidden for far too long. So, really, fate had probably had something to do with the entire event. Loki was fated to fail, to fall, to come back and fail again.

 _Fated to be prisoner to a Midgardian wench._ He glanced sidelong at her, feeling rage building up. He quickly pushed it back, not wanting another outburst when it would do no good.

She was smiling at his previous comment, one corner of her mouth turning up in amusement. Loki wondered how quickly her expression would change if he started shouting, throwing things, letting his magic flow with his rage. He wondered how she could ignore the emotions she claimed were instinctively felt.

Eleanore looked him in the eye a moment, then turned her attention to the timepiece on the wall. "Crap, I have to get going." It was half past six, and dawn was well underway outside the window shades, filling the room with cheerful yellow light. Eleanore set the cat aside and darted from the couch into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Loki sat in the quiet, breathing steadily to try to control his tumultuous thoughts. They would not center, instead whirling through his mind in a disconnected haze. Trying to focus on something abstract did not work, so he rose and walked over to the opposite wall, where pictures hung in brown frames.

Eleanore and Darren laughed from one, waving to the camera from the dragon's back, hair flying in the wind and expressions of elated joy on their faces. In another, Eleanore stood with two young men, both strangers to Loki, who shared enough features to be related to her. They were in another picture too, in the middle of a sunlit field with long rows of plants surrounding them, wearing hats and smiling, and Eleanore's face lacked some of the maturity of her present iteration. An older couple stood in the same field in another picture, arms around each other, smiling for the photo. In another, Eleanore and someone Loki knew must be her mother posed similarly, almost identical people at different stages of life. A couple of very old mortals sat at a table in a spacious room, playing a card game together. Eleanore and Darren sat on a fence while cattle grazed in the background. One of the young men stood next to a cow, making an absurd face to mimic the beast as it chewed. Darren and the young men sat around a fire in the dark, talking animatedly. Eleanore read a book while sitting on a swinging bench that hung on a tree. Her mother stood in a kitchen, flour covering her hands and loaves of unbaked bread in pans before her.

"Family photos," Darren commented, stepping out of Eleanore's bedroom. Loki did not let his surprise show, not having noticed the younger Stark's approach, reminding himself that there was no harm in looking at publicly displayed pictures on a wall.

"Her family owns a farm?" He was curious, and also apathetic about it.

"Yeah, she owns a part in it. Her aunt and uncle," Darren walked to his side and gestured to the couple standing in the field, "and her cousins run it. Cows and corn and soybeans. I fixed their combine once."

Loki didn't know what soybeans were, or a 'combine', and he didn't care to ask. "You were both much younger here," he pointed to the fence photo, noting the absence of the dragon.

"Yeah, we'd only been together for a few months. She went back to work on the farm the summer after she graduated high school, and I visited for a few days. Her family there hated me at first, but now I think they like me." The boy smiled ruefully and scratched the back of his tousled, curly head.

"They tolerate you," Eleanore contradicted, smiling, strolling out of the bathroom with her wet hair falling down her back. She was still in the same clothes, but she'd clearly bathed at some point.

"What time do your exams start?" Darren ignored the jibe and hugged her close, kissing her forehead. Loki kept himself from rolling his eyes.

"Seven-thirty. I have to run. I'm getting dressed and heading out. Get whatever you want for breakfast. Are you heading back to New York this morning?"

"Thought I'd stay and see how your exams go. Celebrate with supper tonight. Want to order in?"

Darren's offer was met with a huge smile that lit up Eleanore's eyes, and another hug that wasted time. "Thanks. Okay, be right back." She collected herself and dashed into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

The hall door's handle twisted and opened, admitting the Captain, who looked at Loki and Darren standing in front of the picture wall and nodded a greeting. "Morning."

"Breakfast?" Darren offered, moving into the kitchen. "All I know how to make is scrambled eggs."

"I can help," Rogers offered. "Elle already gone?"

"She's changing in the bedroom. Her exams start at seven thirty. I don't think she'll be done until later this afternoon."

"Sheesh." Loki could at least partially agree with the Captain's minimalist comment. When he'd taken lessons, they'd never kept him that long, releasing him for a healthy dose of physical training and leisure time. Then again, these were final exams. If they were anything like the final warrior presentation on Asgard, then the length of time made more sense. But Loki didn't think the two were comparable, since the subject Eleanore studied appeared so simple. Perhaps there were many tests in one day, and that was why it would last so long.

Darren was getting eggs out of the ice box while Rogers set a pan on the stove and poured some type of oil into it. Darren cracked the eggs into a bowl and poured milk over them, whisking them with a fork and adding a few spices until he poured the goopy mess into the sizzling pan.

Loki watched this with interest, not having had experience cooking in an actual kitchen, much less a Midgardian one. Hunting trips and adventures from his youth were the most he'd ever fended for himself with regards to food, and Thor had always had a hand in the dishes, wanting to add unknown plants for taste. Loki vastly preferred the palace's cooks, who knew what he liked and how he liked it.

 _But that is no longer yours to claim. They catered to a lie._ Bitter truths reminded him of who he was and why he was stuck watching two men trying not to burn rapidly cooking eggs over blue flames.

"Smells good," Eleanore commented, briskly walking out of her room and gathering her hair into a messy topknot. She threw her books into a bag hurriedly, grabbing her keys and a sealed cup of coffee before kissing Darren and waving to Rogers and Loki as she breezed out the door. The dragon-dog followed on her heels silently, sparing no one a glance as it disappeared.

Darren and Rogers dished the eggs onto plates, and Loki took his and ate without a word. The silence was palpable, and no one seemed to know what to say. Loki thought of several comments, but he didn't feel like talking anyway, and he enjoyed watching the other two squirm.

When they were done, they all stood and put their plates in the sink. Darren stayed in the kitchen and loaded the pan and plates into a white machine whose door folded out to reveal wire drawers and a basket that was, apparently, for silverware.

"There," he said, washing his hands. "Cleared up. Now what?"

The Captain shrugged and Loki raised his eyebrow. He would have been fine spending the day reading more books, or maybe learning about their computers and using one to gain a wider variety of information.

"We could go take a look at the gym," Rogers finally suggested, after a few moments.

"Great idea. Have you seen it yet, Loki?" Darren asked, relieved to have something to distract from the awkwardness.

"I have not had the pleasure."

"I'll go change." Rogers headed out of the apartment, and Loki heard the door across the hall open and close.

"I've got some gym clothes here, I think…" Darren furrowed his brow and went into the bedroom.

Loki was left to ponder what they meant by 'gym clothes'. He figured they were not unlike Asgardian training garments for wrestling, which were light cloth tunics and trousers, with bare feet or boots. He ran a hand down his body and reformed his clothing to match his memories of time long past. Once he was declared a warrior and man of Asgard, he'd only been in the training grounds for ceremonies and competitive events, all of which required ceremonial royal armor.

 _Another trick, really. A warrior and man of Asgard… I suppose my disguise was declared adequate._

Loki felt his anger rising, and he redirected his thoughts to avoid any unnecessary confrontation. Rogers would likely not be as tolerant of an outburst as Eleanore, and Loki would like to keep at least one of them thinking he was improving.

"Ready?" Darren emerged from the room clad in soft red pants that descended to his knees and a short sleeved black shirt with the running shoes that were favored on Midgard, also black. "Those look comfortable."

"They are," Loki acknowledged with a slight nod. The clothing was made for him, and it was worn just enough to be familiar.

"Want to head out? Meet Steve at his door?" Darren suggested.

Loki held out an arm to invite the half-breed boy to lead the way and they made their way into the hall. Darren locked the door behind them with a shining silver key.

"Spare," he explained, spinning its ring on his finger and leaning against the wall.

"Indeed."

They were there only a quiet moment longer before the Captain joined them and they followed him down the stairs and into the street. They took a direct route around the corner and straight down across a street and an alley and into a short, flat brick building with two floors. There was equipment immediately inside the second door where Darren and Rogers swiped identification cards, but they led him down a flight of stairs into a basement entryway, where they swiped their cards again.

"It's a more private area," Darren explained, "with special equipment with more weight on it."

Loki looked around at the clearly roped-off sparring ring, the heavy-looking bags lined up on the floor and hanging from the ceiling, and the large weights off to the side. There was a smell of sweat and even leather that was eerily familiar in a way the room was not. He thoughtfully approached the hanging bag and gave it a tentative press with just the tips of his fingers, finding it did not give easily under light pressure. He struck it with the flat of his hand, and it gave a healthy swing, but the metal support held it in place. He spun suddenly and kicked it, and that was all it took to send the thing flying across the floor in a gravelly heap.

"My apologies," Loki said, looking to the other two and expecting exasperation.

"It's no problem," Rogers walked over and picked up another of the bags easily, hanging it from the support again. "I'll tape that one up in no time." He lifted the broken sack form he floor and walked over into a small storage room. A ripping sound started coming in regular intervals as he repaired the equipment.

"I can hold this one for you so it doesn't give as much," Darren offered, walking around and pressing his shoulder to the oversized pendulum.

Loki slowed his next kick so it wouldn't send the boy flying, and landed slightly off from where he'd aimed. He frowned at the elbow he could see sticking out from the side of the bag. "Do you spar?"

"Some," Darren straightened and faced him. "I like distance combat better, though."

"Would you do me the honor?" Loki felt odd asking. It had been so long since he'd really practiced. Real like had given him plenty of opportunities to test his mettle against trained combatants. And this Stark had been his enemy until just a few days ago. Was _still_ his enemy in some ways.

"Sure." Evidently unaware of his enemy status, Darren ducked under the ropes and pulled a set of gloves from the pole at one corner. He held them up and raised his eyebrows, "You use these?"

"I never have."

"We don't need to, then." He hung them back up and stepped back as Loki ducked in beside him. "So how do you start on Asgard?"

"We…" Loki stopped himself, first remembering there was no _we_ , then realizing no one on Midgard knew that. "We stand four strides apart in ready stances."

"Feet, hands, anything goes?"

"Honorable hits, if you want to go by their rules." Loki privately liked those rules, as they had saved him and every other man a great deal of pain in the beginning. Sif had gotten called more than once for violating those regulations when she was first starting out.

"Alright," Darren stepped back the appropriate distance and took a solid position.

Loki cocked his head, surveying him. It looked like both Starks had had some training in close combat, no matter their flying abilities. "Are you prepared?"

"Yeah."

Loki started slow, testing the waters with blows to Darren's shoulders to see if he would be knocked off balance easily. He was not, and he hit back, quickly rising in Loki's estimation. They started really sparring, acting and reacting, not pausing between strikes, relying on instinct and experience. Darren was not nearly as strong as Loki, possibly not even as strong as the Captain, but he made up for that with quick creativity and resourcefulness that kept Loki engaged and guessing. After the younger Stark had determined he wasn't going to easily hurt or best Loki, he'd stopped pulling his punches and had attacked for all he was worth. Loki let the fight last, letting the physical exertion warm his muscles and release some of the built-up stress.

It ended on a mistake on both their parts, Darren becoming distracted by a noise from the ceiling and Loki overestimating his partner's reaction abilities. Darren slid across the mat, bouncing once and rolling onto his stomach. He sat there a moment, panting, then grinned up at Loki. "That was great."

"It was a good match." Loki wouldn't let himself admit aloud that he was sorry it was over, that he'd _enjoyed_ it.

"Can I tap in?" Rogers asked from where he'd stood for some time, observing the fight.

"Let me drag myself out of the way," Darren groaned as he stood, sweating, and exited the ring.

Loki nodded to the Captain to signal he would accept the challenge. They'd fought last in Stuttgart, with Loki in armor and Rogers completely unprepared to face him. This would be more even, although Loki would watch himself until he knew the man's true limits. No use actually injuring one of the people responsible for his imprisonment, not when his release depended on their good will.

Rogers was quiet, settling into the position Loki had taught Darren, shoulders tense, blue eyes appraising. Loki readied himself as well and made the first move, a casual sweep to the knee, which Rogers easily dodged.

It quickly became apparent that the Captain had severely held back in Germany. The man was quicker than Darren, and he moved like he was used to being smaller than his opponents, dodging and getting in indirect hits as opposed to the brutish, straightforward style he'd shown before. Now he fought with _skill_ , and Loki almost forgot himself at times, only holding himself back on potentially critical hits. He started strategizing instead of just reacting, looking for a major weak point in Rogers' defenses. It was his legs. They did not move as much as they should, and Loki attributed it to the man's weapon of choice: that round shield that protected his upper body and also acted as an excellent target. He allowed the match to last until both of them were short of breath and sweating before he feinted, hooked his toe behind a vulnerable heel, and brought Captain America down with a forearm to the chest.

"Wow." Darren was leaning against the ropes, eyes wide. "I need to learn everything about what just happened."

"I got knocked over," Rogers grinned and rose to his feet. "It's not that complex."

Loki made his eyes slide past the overture of friendship and land on the offending legs. "Almost half your body is unguarded when you concentrate."

"Yeah?" The Captain looked at his legs, following Loki's gaze. "I'll have to work on that."

"We put extra armor there because you almost never cover your feet with your shield," Darren agreed, hopping back into the ring. "Your boots are almost as bulletproof as my suit."

"Thanks." The Captain responded. No sarcasm, no annoyance at a flaw being pointed out. True gratefulness and satisfaction, and thoughtfulness about what he could do to improve.

Loki told himself that wasn't interesting, but it was.

They spent a couple more hours exchanging sparring matches and areas of improvement. Darren told Loki, from observation, that he tended to turn his back to his opponent more than was, strictly speaking, safe. That this was because Loki had spent centuries honing his skills so that he could scan around his entire body seemed to escape the younger Stark. Loki didn't bother to enlighten him, giving a silent nod and knocking him down with a well-placed blow to the stomach, which was Darren's weakest point.

Despite sparring with his enemies, Loki felt better than he had in days when they left the gym. The clouds were gathering, and the air had the feel of an approaching storm. Loki liked the rain, although lightning would forever be associated with unwelcome memories.

His opponents looked much worse for wear than he felt, with Darren slouching and the Captain gazing about tiredly as though he'd fought another battle. In a way, he had. When they reached the apartment building, Darren let Loki use the bathroom for a 'shower' first, settling onto the couch and petting the cat, who was begging for attention. Loki took the opportunity to test out the bathing contraption, and found it not unpleasant, although he was too tall for it. There was obviously masculine and feminine soap side by side, and Loki was reminded of the scent of his favorite hair oil back on Asgard. He washed quickly and dried himself with magic, having forgotten a towel when he'd entered the bathroom.

"Elle called while you were in there," Darren informed him as he exited the steamy room. "She'll be here in about an hour. Just has to drop off her old textbooks."

"Did she succeed in her examinations?" Loki asked politely. He didn't really care either way, and he also didn't knwo what the consequences were if she failed.

"Won't know until next week when grades are due." Darren stood and stretched before making his way into the restroom, towel swung over his shoulder. "I'm sure she passed, though." He closed the door behind him, and the sound barrier swallowed any other reply he might have made.

Loki felt mildly curious and Midgard's modern educational system and its requirements, but he could wait to ask. He sat in the leather chair and pulled the book he'd been reading from his space between spaces. Charlie jumped presumptuously into his lap and curled up, rumbling, but Loki just ignored him and turned the pages. He was on to the Iron Age, which was still laughably primitive compared to humans in the present time.

"Hey," Rogers entered the unlocked door, notebook and pencil in hand. Loki did not bother to return the greeting, and the man sat quietly on the couch and began drawing, his damp hair shining in the dull light that came from the approaching storm clouds.

Loki suspected the man was there mostly to watch him, since Eleanore was absent, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. He was not currently intent on any plots, and even if he were he could easily outsmart the noble Captain. As it was, he was curiously calm, likely from the sparring and the warm water of the shower. He sighed and turned the page, knowing the peace would not last long and savoring it while it held.

 _ **A/N: Here's an update right before I head to a job for the next few weeks. I'll try to update within the next two weeks, but I don't know when precisely I'll be able to. Until then, please enjoy the above words and know I'm always thinking about this story!**_

 **Guest** _ **: Thank you for your kind review! I'm glad you liked the debate.**_

 **Everyone else:** _**Please keep reading and reviewing! I'm always interested to know what you think about the story, the characters, the dialog, etc.**_

 _ **Thanks,**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	15. Chapter 15: S Weather

"I know I said we'd order in tonight," Darren said, wandering into the kitchen from the bedroom where he'd used Elle's desk to draw up some equations, leaning his rear against the counter beside the stove, "but I could cook something quick here and have it ready when Elle gets home."  
"Sounds fine," Steve shrugged. "What are you making?"  
"Stir fry with this leftover pork roast," Darren pulled the container out of the refrigerator and chopped the meat into thin slices using magic and turning his attention elsewhere. He grabbed a pot from the stove and dropped the hovering food inside. Then he added olive oil - quite a bit - and set a bag of frozen vegetables on the counter beside the flaming stove. He grabbed another container and added rice and water, setting it on the back burner on a low heat.  
"Smells good already." Steve watched the preparation for a moment, noting how Darren measured ingredients and used precise movements to pour, stir, and chop. He also kept glancing at the stove's flame height, and all these behaviors contrasted sharply with how Steve was used to seeing Eleanore handle herself in the kitchen.  
Everything was calm for the moment. The sky was mostly cloudy, sending muted light through the windows. It was a warm day, but not as hot as Steve knew cities could get in the summertime. The apartment was smelling spicier as Darren raided the cupboard, muttering under his breath about flavor pairings. The wok made crackling noises as the pork cooked, and it hissed when the frozen vegetables were added. The air conditioner kicked in, and cool air flowed from the vent set at the base of the wall. The rotating fan lazily pulled the cool air toward the ceiling, turning on its slowest setting and making the room comfortably even in temperature.  
Loki was reading, almost through with the world history book. Elle had ordered a couple more detailed textbooks for him online so he could learn more about history and scientific advances through time. Steve was looking forward to reading those himself. At least reading might keep the demigod from plotting, although there was probably a fair amount of that going on behind those green-blue eyes that sometimes looked pained, sometimes froze to icy fury. So far, though, Eleanore had handled her charge pretty well. An outdated super soldier wasn't really a benefit to this operation. He shifted to get more comfortable on the couch cushions and brushed those thoughts from his mind, picking up his pencil with a sigh.  
Steve felt that he was unnecessary, but it was still his duty to watch Loki when Elle wasn't there, so he stayed. It was fun to draw, at least, and interesting to look up and see Charlie asleep on Loki's lap as though nothing were dangerous about that. Since Elle loved that cat so much, there was probably no risk for him. Steve drew them for a while, trying not to glance up too much so Loki wouldn't suspect anything. He wanted proof that such a peaceful time was possible, since there was inevitable conflict in their future. Maybe he'd show Eleanore sometime when Loki was away or distracted.  
Footsteps up the stairs and down the hall warned of her arrival. Charlie heard the door handle turning and jumped from Loki's legs, trilling his way across the floor.  
"Hey, baby kitty." Elle sounded and looked tired as she set a large suitcase down and picked up the cat, her eyes grazing over the men in her living room, an absent grin quirking the corners of her mouth. She looked up at Darren adoringly and beamed, "I love you. Thanks for cooking. How was the day?"  
"It was good," Darren came out of the bedroom and gave her a hug, squishing the cat between them. Steve nodded agreement, letting them have their moment. "Loki taught us how to fight."  
"Like debating or punching you in the face?" she asked, looking Darren up and down, then turning to Loki, then Steve, assessing for injuries.  
"It wasn't overly violent. But there was some punching," Darren gave her a crooked smile.  
Elle laughed at that explanation, then sighed and set her backpack down by the counter. "Three of my professors let me just show up to their office hours for the exams, but one forgot and I spent the day trying to find him."  
Darren winced sympathetically, "Was that the presentation one?"  
"Yeah, so I have no idea what kind of grade I got. Fifteen minutes talking about economic development models after dashing around campus. But anyway," Elle looked around the room again, drawing the other two into the conversation, "fighting, huh? At the gym?"  
"Yeah," Steve grinned, recalling the great sparring matches. Loki was amazing at close combat, and Steve had learned quite a bit. Darren had improved over the course of the 'lesson' as well, moving more confidently and making better choices in attacks and defense. "Went a few rounds in the boxing ring without the gloves. No one got hurt," he assured her, as she narrowed her eyes and surveyed each of them in turn again, short glances that would reveal nothing she needed to worry about. Steve had gotten a few bruises from Loki's blocks, and even one or two from Darren's increasingly aggressive attacks, but they were to be expected and completely healed within an hour. It had been fun, not having to hold back. Darren was strong, stronger than any humans Steve had fought, but on about the same level as Steve himself in terms of reaction time. Loki was on another plane entirely, and Steve had had to push himself to even keep up. Without armor, the demigod had clearly felt hits more, but he'd never showed any pain and only minimal frustration. Overall, the experience was surreal, fighting Loki and losing over and over without worrying about the consequences. Learning about fighting tactics from a prisoner and an enemy. Former enemy.  
Steve set his sketchbook aside on the end table and scooted over on the couch so Jet could jump up, which he did, smelling faintly of the warm outdoors: trees, close air, and vehicle exhaust. The dragon-dog stretched out and fell asleep almost immediately, after a cursory observation of Loki, who stared back until the blue patterned eyes closed with a sigh.  
"Weather's moving in," Elle commented, taking a seat in her gray chair and picking Charlie up like a baby.  
"Cold front from the north," Darren agreed. "Were the clouds building together yet out there?"  
"Quite a bit. Nothing as high as the stratosphere, but significant cumulonimbus accumulation." Eleanore tucked her feet under her and leaned against the left arm of the chair, toward the window and Loki, who tensed up then relaxed with visible effort. "I don't think we'll see anything for a half hour or so, though."  
Steve inwardly puzzled over the terminology, craning his own neck to take a peek through the glass. He saw low-lying, towering dark clouds with crevasses of blue sky shining through. Even though the sun was in the west, it was darker in that direction, and it was very gray to the north. Distantly, he could see a tower of clouds that blotted out the sky to the east, but they were moving to the side and the south, and they didn't look like there was any rain in them. "Cumulonimbus?" he asked, turning back to Eleanore and Darren, who were talking about forecasts and when they could take Jet out to fly.  
"Cumulus, like clouds that build up and accumulate." Elle started the straightforward explanation, brown eyes widening as they met Steve's, a slight frown crossing her mouth as she thought about what she wanted to say. "Nimbus means raincloud."  
"The cold front storms are usually the strongest," Darren picked up when she paused, turning as he stirred the simmering pan, "because the front pushes warm air up above it, which creates a lot of compression of warm air and energy."  
"Warmth and light means there's energy present," Elle started using her hands as she spoke, sitting forward, getting into the subject. "You know, the brighter or warmer, the more energy there is. So when warm air particles with lots of energy get compressed, they get all riled up and charged, and they move in a smaller space."  
"And water in the air gets pushed together into droplets, creating clouds."  
"The more energy and air compressed, the bigger the storm."  
"And since cold fronts push storms ahead of them, it's sometimes a lot cooler after a storm moves through."  
"Does that make sense?" Elle grinned from Steve to Darren and back raising her eyebrows in question.  
"Yeah, it does," Steve assured them. And it did, and it was fascinating. He stayed quiet as Elle and Darren went back to talking about supper, processing the new information. He liked how they explained things, and he was a little amused at how they spoke together, picking up where the other left off.  
"Rice too?" Eleanore changed the subject, satisfied that Steve wasn't confused. She picked up her backpack and carried it into her bedroom as Darren nodded and grunted confirmation. "Did you have a good day, Loki?"  
Loki raised his eyes and waited until she came back out of the room, "It was not intolerable."  
"That's good," she smiled at him with the ironic, wry humor she usually used when she was tired or comfortable. "Your clothes are in that bag by the door. I don't know how long they were on the roof, but at least I remembered them before it started raining."  
Loki nodded silently, a blank expression on his face, before returning to his book. He was within twenty pages of the end. Steve wondered for a moment whether Loki even wanted the new clothes, since he managed his own styles pretty well already. _They'll help him blend in, if that's what he wants._  
Steve watched Darren stir the simmering vegetables and pork, heard Jet heave a sigh, watched the room darken as the cumulonimbus clouds finally converged overhead. Elle inspected the first drops of rain that pattered against the window.  
Supper was delicious. Steve hadn't had anything like stir fry before, and the mix of vegetables and spices over rice was an interesting change from the war rations he'd had the past year, and the more traditional European meals Steve had had since waking up in the twenty-first century. He started making a mental checklist of new foods he'd tried so far, _chicken alfredo pasta, curry, stir fry._ Not much, compared to the different foods he'd noticed in the stores, but he'd only been awake for a few weeks.  
Darren had already gone back for seconds, and he was wolfing the steaming food down. Since they had skipped lunch, Steve was hungry as well. He waited a moment, letting everything settle before he too spooned another serving into his bowl. Stealing a glance to the side, Steve noticed that Loki was even scraping the last of the rice up, though he ate slowly, politely, sitting up perfectly straight and staring thoughtfully at the pictures on the wall. Thunder rumbled occasionally, but the walls were pretty well-insulated so not much noise made it through.  
Everyone was fairly quiet during the meal, Elle only speaking up to tell Charlie he wouldn't like the spicy meat their food contained. Afterward, Darren's car arrived and he departed back to Stark Tower, where he promised to look into getting Loki a laptop and cell phone.  
The door closed behind him and Eleanore sank into her gray chair with a sigh. "I'm so glad this day is over."  
"So are you graduating?" Steve asked as he placed their plates in the dishwasher.  
"Yep, all done. Now I just have to wait for the diploma to be mailed here." Eleanore smiled and swiped Charlie into her lap as he was walking by.  
"No ceremony?"  
"I don't want to go to it." Elle shrugged, "It takes all day, with two thousand people in the lineup."  
"That is a lot." Steve could respect her choice not to sit while all those names were read, but he thought he'd probably have gone to his own college graduation.  
"Yeah, my mom will be relieved. She didn't go to her ceremony either." Eleanore looked out the window, where rain was falling within flashes of lightning.  
Steve realized that Lydia probably wouldn't be able to sit through a long event like that. When they visited, she was almost constantly shifting and uncomfortable, standing and walking around every few minutes. Elle had mentioned her mother's back and hips being sore if she stayed still, an effect of the cancer's treatment wearing on her body. Of course Elle wouldn't want to go to the graduation if her mom couldn't be there.  
"Well, we can at least look at these clothes." Elle rose from her chair again and brought the suitcase into the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor and unzipping it. "Wow, nice."  
There were a couple of suits folded neatly on top of the case, black and dark gray. One pair of black leather dress shoes and another of brown were next, loafers, styled a bit like the boots Loki habitually wore. Then a pair of gray running shoes and several sets of exercise clothes - thin shirts in white, black, and navy blue, shorts and sweat pants in black and gray. There were two pairs of blue jeans and brown, black, and gray slacks near the bottom on one side, with dress shirts in dark green, gray, white, and tan on the other side. The bottom layer of the suitcase contained undershirts, socks, and underwear, and Elle left those alone.  
"Huh." She sat back, surrounded by the clothes she'd taken out. She looked at Loki, "What do you think?"  
"I am not likely to wear most of those garments," he said flatly, frowning. The storms were closer now, thunder cracking almost in sync with the lightning. Steve wondered if lightning reminded Loki of Thor.  
"Still, it was a thoughtful of Pepper to get these. Come on, I'll help you put them away." Eleanore got up and piled clothes into her arms, heading into Loki's bedroom without a backwards glance.  
Loki's frown deepened, but he got up and picked up the open suitcase, disappearing into his room as well. The electric light went on as he walked in, and Steve listened as Eleanore started explaining human clothing care.  
"Your suits should last a few wears before we have to dry clean them. I'm hanging them on this side of the closet to keep them from getting wrinkled and messed with. The top couple of drawers can hold your underwear and socks. If you need more pants we can get some for you. There," footsteps on the wooden floor brought Eleanore closer to Loki and the door, "the shirts are done. Want help folding those?"  
"I can manage," Loki said testily. Steve pictured the former prince folding his own clothing and came up dry. Then again, he wouldn't have been able to picture sparring with Loki and having it end well if it hadn't happened.  
"Okay, I'll put these on the shelf over here." Elle wasn't perturbed by the icy tone.  
Steve bit back a smile and picked up his sketchbook again so it wouldn't look like he was listening when they came back out. The storm was in full force outside the window at his back, with lightning flashes occasionally illuminating the page in front of him with blue-white light. The thunder was loud enough to bother him now, and Steve hid the urge his got to jump at every shock by drawing careful lines from memory.  
"Jeeze, it's getting really wild out—" Eleanore was commenting from the other room when the brightest flash lit the room, along with the loudest clap of thunder.  
Steve blinked, wondering if the lighting had struck him blind. He couldn't see anything at all, but he could still feel the notebook and pencil clutched tightly in his hands. _The power's out. That's all._ He stood up slowly and walked forward a few steps, "You guys okay?"  
"Yeah," Eleanore responded cheerily just as a white orb of light flared into existence in the doorway of Loki's room. She appeared a second later, squinting around the magic, "I should go check in Mrs. Hirsch."  
"You have a flashlight?" Steve glanced around, but the light was wane and there were more shadows than visible objects.  
"My phone has one. I'll be right back." Elle turned on a little light from the back of her cell phone and hurried out of the apartment into the pitch black hallway. Jet rose and skirted around the door after her, and a moment later their steps echoed up the stairs.  
Loki materialized in the door frame, one eyebrow raised.  
"Power's out," Steve notified him dutifully. "It happens sometimes."  
"Indeed," the demigod seemed unimpressed. They stood there in silence for a moment, listening to the returning steps until the hall door opened once more and Eleanore and Jet came back inside.  
"She was fine," was the report. Then Elle looked at Steve and grinned, "Sketching in the dark?"  
Steve looked down and realized he was still holding onto his drawing supplies. "Never know when it'll come in handy."  
Elle chuckled, then sighed. "Well, it looks like the whole area is out. They should have it fixed by morning, though. Who wants hot chocolate?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead reaching a pot from the overhead shelf and fetching milk from the darkened refrigerator. "Good thing I don't need a stove for this, huh?" She waved her hand over the pot of milk, and it started steaming and bubbling almost immediately. Elle glanced back at Steve and Loki, "You guys can sit down, you know."  
Steve blinked, remembering himself, and walked back to the couch to deposit his notebook and pencil.  
"Do that again." Loki's voice commanded from behind him. Steve turned around to find the glowing orb right next to the stove and Loki standing over Eleanore.  
"No, the milk will burn." Elle wasn't intimidated, frowning up at him. "Here, I'll boil water." She pulled some from the air to hover over her palm and quickly steamed it away.  
Loki watched with narrowed eyes until the water was gone. Then he turned away slightly and imitated what Eleanore had just done. "Is this correct?"  
"I don't know," Elle said honestly. "It looks right. Why?"  
"You have a very strange magic," Loki informed her seriously. Steve almost grinned, thinking that was a very good description of Eleanore in general.  
"Interesting." Elle looked at her hand for a moment, then shook her head, "Want to hand me some mugs?"  
Loki blinked slowly at her, then walked around and got three mugs down from their cupboard. "Do you sense water when it is nearby?"  
"I've never tried that before." Elle got a cylinder labeled Nestle down from the top of the spice cupboard and added it to each empty cup before sending milk into them with a swirling motion. "Here, Steve."  
Steve accepted the hot chocolate and sat on the couch as the other two took their chairs. He stayed quiet, since this was the most he'd heard Loki speak all day. Even in the sparring ring, the demigod had only spoken terse, cautious sentences to inform Steve and Darren of what they were doing wrong.  
"When did you begin to learn to manipulate water?" Loki continued his questioning, taking an appraising sip of his beverage. He waved his hand and the orb glowed warmer and brighter, more like a campfire, coming to rest in the middle of the living room floor.  
"I was about seven when my powers showed up, although that's much younger than most mutants." Elle picked Charlie up and settled back into her chair. Jet settled back on the couch next to Steve.  
Loki was quiet for a moment, staring straight ahead. Then he glanced sideways and narrowed his eyes in a sneer, "And when did you begin manipulating people?"  
Steve frowned at the rising hostility, but he let Elle speak for herself.  
She did, turning to face Loki as much as she could while remaining seated, "When did you?"  
Loki laughed at that in his calculated _aheheh_. "An excellent point." Steve suddenly felt like he was in the middle of an interrogation. No matter how friendly the demigod's tone was, he couldn't help feeling like Loki was scoping them out for their strengths and weaknesses. It made the skin on his hands tingle in useless anticipation.  
"So I have a question," Elle said, shifting a little in her seat. "You know how Thor flies with his hammer?"  
"Yes," Loki said tensely, visibly gritting his teeth.  
"How does he not crash land all the time? I mean, I saw him slam into aliens and Tony, but he landed pretty gracefully on top of the Empire State Building."  
"Ah," Loki's voice was full of forced nonchalance. "Centuries of practice."  
"Oh." Elle was quiet for a minute, and Steve felt the atmosphere diffusing a little bit. Loki stared straight ahead into the darkness, his hot chocolate set aside. Steve made himself take a drink. It was good, rich, warm. It brought back memories from when he was younger and his mother had splurged for the drink. "So you've been to Earth before, right?"  
"Several times," Loki acknowledged with a nod.  
"Back with the Vikings? Really?"  
"Midgard was something all Asgardians were expected to understand. Though almost no one took extended trips here." Loki had calmed down, at least outwardly, becoming the same distant alien he'd been earlier with Steve and Darren. There was no crack in that veneer.  
"This must be quite a change then," Steve put in gesturing to the apartment, meaning the technology as a whole.  
"The present situation is not so different from when I first visited Midgard, actually." Loki's mouth quirked a little at the corners as he made the joke. Steve made himself smile a little in response, although he wasn't feeling very humorous. The thunder and lightning were still going strong and making him as restive as the potential for this conversation to go bad.  
"Ha, ha," Elle said sarcastically. "Very funny. But weren't you surprised when you saw what we've accomplished?"  
"Not especially," Loki replied flatly. "Your people are still as divided as ever, only with more advanced weapons to carry out your pointless wars."  
"That's one way to look at it," Steve agreed. He thought the same thing sometimes, comparing the nineteen forties to the twenty-first century. "But some good has come out of it. Cures for disease, more information, better food…"  
"Taller people, certainly," Loki added. "When I was last here, you humans were much shorter. And there is less of an abundance of vermin upon your persons."  
"Yeah, everyone used to have fleas and lice." Elle smiled, taking a drink of her hot chocolate.  
"Used to?" Steve scratched his head wildly and earned an open laugh from his friend and a raised brow from Loki and Jet. He felt a little better after that, with the warm light falling over the scene and the easier topics.  
"So, Loki, how long did you have to go to school? And how old are you?" Steve saw Elle visibly stop herself from launching into a questioning rant, clamping her lips shut and turning her gaze to her subject.  
"I attended formal lessons for about twenty of your years, from the time I was four. And I would have to calculate my age out by comparing the Asgardian and Midgardian calendars to be precise, but I would estimate my age at around one thousand of Midgardian years, give or take a century."  
"One thousand years." Elle sat back, her eyes going distant. Steve, too, tried to imagine living for that long. He was in his twenties, but he'd lived in two centuries. Still, that much time was incomprehensible. Odin must have been alive when humans were just starting to form cities, and Loki had been born about one thousand years after Jesus.  
"What do you do with all that time?" Steve asked, curious as to how Asgardians spent their time.  
"Grow and learn. I spent my first couple of hundred years after I was declared a warrior studying magic." Loki seemed amused at Steve's awed tone, doing bad job of hiding a smirk.  
"What about the next several hundred years?" Elle asked.  
"I learned my princely duties. There were informal lessons, court days, inter-realm meetings like the one at which I met Darren. A century or so ago, Odin started both Thor and I on lessons specifically for ruling." Mentioning his family made Loki tense up again, his shoulders rising slightly toward his ears.  
"Do people from other… realms live that long?" Steve asked, trying to change the subject naturally.  
"For the most part. Midgard is the notable exception," Loki answered shortly. He was clearly holding back some anger now, and he glanced toward his bedroom as though he wanted to escape.  
Steve decided to let him. "Well, I'm beat. Thanks for the hot chocolate, Elle."  
"Huh?" She looked up from her thoughtful staring match with the floor. "Oh, it is pretty late, isn't it? I'm tired, too. Here," she rose and held out her hand, "I'll start the dishwasher."  
Steve handed her his mug, and Loki did the same, standing with them. Steve headed for the door, stepping around Charlie's waking stretch. "Have a good night. See you tomorrow."  
"Oh, hang on a second. Do you want to go visiting tomorrow? And flying?" Eleanore shut the dishwasher door and turned to face him inquisitively.  
"Sounds great. Nine?"  
"Yes. Okay, goodnight." Elle smiled him out of the apartment. Steve grinned back until the door shut, then he let his face relax.  
The day overall had been good, especially considering Loki had tried to get along with them more. Still, Steve couldn't get rid of the niggling dread in the back of his mind. Part of it was because, while Loki had shared some information about himself he hadn't really told them anything personal. He was hiding things. Of course, it made sense that the demigod didn't trust them yet, but he was dangerous. He'd studied magic for hundreds of years, and he'd been trained to physically battle anyone who got in his way. Just a week ago, Loki had been in a murderous rage, killing indiscriminately and specifically targeting Steve and his friends. Steve had to question how much of that was mind control and how much was personal revenge against Thor and his family.  
Steve reached for the light switch before he remembered that it wouldn't work. Instead, he felt his way into the bathroom and performed his nightly duties as best he could with the faint glow from the distant street lamp. Then he shuffled to his bedroom between flashes of lightning and lay on his bed with a sigh.  
Elle was convinced that healing was key. And today hadn't been too bad. It was just this feeling that Steve couldn't shake, that Loki was always plotting and planning, playing the long game. Waiting for a slip-up or vulnerability to make his move. The guy was smart, an excellent planner, and he was getting to know some of the people who had stopped him in the first place. Really, if he was scheming for escape or something worse, he was in an excellent position to get it. But Steve couldn't set aside Eleanore's gut instinct and Darren's past experiences, along with Thor's stories about his brother. These perspectives showed a totally different Loki, one who was thoughtful, sarcastic, logical, even kind sometimes.  
 _But people change._ Loki had been through some kind of mental upset when he'd found out he was adopted. More than an upset, Thor had said Loki had tried to eradicate an entire planet. Thor had also said they were technically at war, but it was still evidence of instability. Coupled with Loki's power, which Earth still hadn't seen the extent of, that instability could doom the planet.  
Steve rolled onto his stomach, trying to break his train of thought. It wouldn't do any good to let his suspicions grow without real evidence, and overtly looking for that evidence would sabotage the healing that Elle was trying to accomplish. And today had seemed like a good first step. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, moving on to a more optimistic outlook.  
The thunder was quieter now, and the rain hit the windows less forcefully. Steve felt relieved that at least he wouldn't have to try to sleep through the storm. He focused on relaxing his muscles, which were pleasantly tired from the extra exercise he'd gotten that day. It had been a good day, he reminded himself. It would do no good to only reflect on the bad things. Sparring had been really cathartic, supper was amazing, and their conversation in the dark was interesting to say they least. No one had overreacted.  
 _I'm overreacting about Loki_ , he thought. _The guy was mind controlled. And his parents sent him here against his will. Of course he's slow to warm up. Treat him like a person, give him respect, and he'll get more comfortable._  
With those goals in mind, Steve turned over and fell into an uneasy slumber.  
 _There was nothing, just fog and grayness surrounding him in varying waves. Between the waves was more gray, silence, and a creeping sense of dread. His chest tightened. Then yelling broke through, strangely distant, and suddenly Steve was in the middle of No Man's Land with shells falling into mud, barbed wire on all sides, and men dying in front of him as they all tried to escape with no success. Blood was dropping like rain, gunfire peppered the silence between explosions._  
 _Steve's heart wrenched, and he tried to turn, to get his bearings, to help anyone he could. His feet seemed too slow, his arms wouldn't reach for his shield. Then he was in a village on the outskirts of Paris as bombs fell around the tiny cottages, the fields, the people running through the streets with nowhere to go. His breathing sped up, and he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. It was impossible to tell the farm animals' groans from the people's dying screams as fire and Hydra's blue weapons claimed them and blasted ash thr0ugh the air._  
 _A modern building loomed up ahead, and New York came into focus. The Chitauri were streaking through the air, crawling over cars. Their war ships were crashing through buildings, sending bodies flying to smash into the pavement. Steve could move now, and he ran, trying to catch whoever he could. The aliens kept their distance, screeching at him from afar. A familiar figure crashed down beside him, all orange scales and blue droplets of blood. Jet's eyes fell on him, and Steve's arms tingled as he watched the life and magic fade from the patterned orbs._  
 _He took a deep breath, or tried to, and ran around Jet's prone form to get to the falling people once again._  
 _"Hey Punk," Bucky's voice sent a knife through his heart, and Steve turned to take in his best friend, all clad in his new military uniform, gun drawn, covering the rear. "You forget who your real friends are?"_  
 _"What?" Steve tried to ask, but he was distracted by a flash of green and gold and black armor amid the smoke and rubble._  
 _Loki was whirling among the Chitauri, taking their lives with well-placed blows to joints, nerves, crunching bones. He had a focused expression, but Steve could tell he was enjoying the fight. It was the same look he had when they'd sparred. Soon six or seven dead aliens surrounded him, and he paused to catch his breath._  
 _The aliens weren't aliens, though. Steve struggled to comprehend as the bodies somehow grew clearer. What he'd thought were dull-colored, screaming Chitauri were actually Tony, Natasha, Clint, Darren, Banner, Eleanore. They were all lying still, helmets drawn back, limbs distorted, breathing stilled. There was no blood, but that somehow made it worse, like Steve could say something and still get a smile or a witty response or a laugh from the sightless eyes and parted lips._  
 _He couldn't breathe over the tightness in his chest anymore. Bucky was watching him, staring with a worn expression like when Steve got into a fight and he had to pull him out._  
 _Loki was grinning just like at Stuttgart, enjoying the chaos—_  
"Steve?" Elle's voice brought him back to consciousness like a douse of cold water. Steve opened his eyes to find her concerned, wide gaze. Her mussed, curly hair hung to one side in a dark wave that fell down her right shoulder. Jet was right beside her, calmly watching the goings-on.  
"I'm fine," was his first reaction. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, aware suddenly that Elle was in his apartment, in his bedroom, and that that meant she'd either come to him for help or noticed whatever emotions that nightmare had brought to the surface. Judging from her cautious stance and worried expression, it was the latter. Relief at seeing someone alive who should be alive and frustration with having his privacy invaded warred in the background of his mind. For a moment, he wanted to hug her, and the next he just wanted her to leave so he could deal with himself.  
"Are you sure?" Elle raised an appraising eyebrow, clearly not buying it.  
"It was just a dream." Because she already knew about it, there was no point in trying to cover it up. Damage control, instead, was Steve's number one priority.  
Elle narrowed her eyes for a moment, and her mouth curved thoughtfully. "Okay," she said doubtfully. She paused, looking around at the room she hadn't been inside since helping Steve move in. Her eyes traveled over the drawn blinds, the drawing desk, the armoir, the upright mirror in the corner, then back to him, "Want me to leave you alone?"  
Steve checked the analog clock that hung in dim green numerals on his wall. Two-fifty. "Shouldn't you try to get back to sleep?"  
"I don't know if I can," Eleanore shrugged, her large shirt that said 'Bibliophile' waving with the motion. "At least not right away."  
"You should try, though." She'd gone the last few days without proper sleep. She had to fly later today; she should be alert for that.  
Eleanore sighed, "Okay." She turned to go, then stopped at the bedroom door, "What're you going to do?"  
Steve didn't look at her right away, staring at the wall and trying to come up with a convincing story that didn't involve punching his cares away for hours at the gym. "I'll draw for a while."  
"That sounds like a good idea." She nodded, hair bobbing a bit. "I'll see you in a few hours."  
"Sweet dreams," Steve said, hoping it didn't sounds sarcastic. Elle grinned at him because she knew what he meant either way, and slipped out of the apartment, Jet trailing after her like a shadow.  
There was no way Steve could sit still any longer. His bed was too soft, the apartment too quiet, and he felt jumpy and strained. He rose and donned his exercise clothes quickly, draining a bottle of water as a nod to health before he turned on the lamp in the living room to make it look like he was still at home once he left. He laced up his new running shoes that had come in the mail. He'd bought some cheap ones from a clothing store, but Eleanore and Darren had both told him that higher quality ones were better for him if he was going to run long distances, and with as much as Steve ran the old ones were already falling apart. These new ones were nondescript gray with black detailing, and Elle had said she liked that model because they were very quiet. They were certainly different from any shoes from the forties, with flexible soles and support for Steve's heels and feet.  
Steve stood from where he'd knelt to tie his laces, when the door handle turned. He froze, caught, as Elle walked back in with a brown leather notebook and a gold and brown pen in her hands.  
"Dream journal," she explained, stopping at the sight of Steve's workout gear and the guilty expression he could feel creeping over his face. "You don't have to use it, but I picked one up at the bookstore today while I was returning my textbooks."  
"Uh, thanks." Steve stepped forward and took the items from her. "These look… nice."  
"It's no problem. I'll go back to bed now." Eleanore seemed hurt. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and she was leaving more quickly than she ever had before, no smile, no closing remark. Steve felt even worse about deceiving her when she just wanted to help him. Then her lips drew downward, and she seemed to change her mind. "You know, I can tell when you haven't been sleeping well too. Okay? It's my job to notice. So if you're going to go somewhere to exercise your stress out, that's fine, but don't act like everything's perfect. Not with me." She stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm really tired and a little too emotionally involved to discuss this right now, but we're going to have a talk about it later. One-on-one. Got it?"  
Steve stood up straighter, realizing this was as close to anger as she'd come with him so far. "Yes ma'am."  
Elle gave him the look as she opened the hall door, "Don't call me ma'am, Steve. And be safe, okay?"  
"I will." Steve tried to grin reassurance, but he felt it fall flat as she closed the door and walked back to her home. He looked at the notebook and pen, and carried them in to his desk, setting them down and heading out the door.  
He didn't' punch anything, instead running his hardest, fastest ten miles ever and finishing with a quick set of weights at the gym. He went back to his apartment as the eastern horizon turned grayish pink, and he was showered and dressed by five thirty. Shaking one of the tumblers filled with milk and protein powder, Steve sat down at his desk and looked at the notebook with a sigh.  
He didn't want to write down every nightmare he had because they were mostly just memories or things he dreaded pictured in detail. They were also numerous, and writing each one down would take a lot of time. But the one last night had featured Loki in a seriously bad light, so Steve decided to outline it, at least, and just tell Elle about the disturbing parts verbally. He remembered them really clearly anyway.  
He opened the notebook and immediately realized the high quality of its lined pages. This wasn't just something Elle had picked up, it was a thoughtfully chosen gift that she knew he'd like. The pen, too, looked like quality, and it and the notebook were clearly meant to go together, even if they hadn't' been packaged that way. Steve grinned as he took off the cap, thinking of the ballpoint pens that had been expensive in the forties, so much so that he was used to writing with…  
A fountain pen. This was a fountain pen, steel nibbed to a narrow point, fitting as naturally into his hand as a pencil.  
Steve just sat still for a second, realizing he hadn't given Eleanore nearly enough credit, for as much as she was able to read him discreetly. He'd never mentioned fountain pens, and she'd gotten him a really nice one. He'd never mentioned liking dark, full, bitter coffee like he'd had in France, but she'd pointed it out to him on their first grocery shopping trip, saying that it might taste familiar. She understood without asking when Steve wanted to talk and when he didn't. She kept snacks around because both Steve and Darren got hungry all the time. She'd directed him to forties style furniture, a record player, and her housewarming gift had been jazz records from the nineteen twenties and big bands from the thirties. It wasn't just Steve she did this to, either. Grocery shopping trips contained a commentary about what Darren liked, how her mother would enjoy this type of cookie, a spare pack of candy for her college friends to have when they came over. Phone calls to her mom every day they didn't visit, reminding Darren to eat when he got focused on a solution, making Peggy a cup of tea as soon as they walked into the room. She was a subtle master at discovering what people liked and needed and making them feel at home.  
 _And she must have figured out I have trouble sleeping a long time ago._ Of course she had. And so, of course, she was frustrated when he tried to hide his problems from her. Sometimes she knew Steve better than he knew himself these days. He'd known that, and respected her insight, but he'd never realized how far it went.  
Steve wondered how much Fury knew about this hidden trait Elle had, and whether or not it was a reason Hill had recommended her. Probably so. SHIELD would have wanted to make their newly awakened Super Soldier feel right at home, and someone like Eleanore Engman was the best person to help with that.  
She was hopefully still asleep at six o'clock, since she'd had an interrupted night. Steve could set things right later, but he could lay the groundwork now. He got to work writing down the pieces of the dream he wanted to talk to her about, enjoying the feel of his new writing materials as he went.  
He finished within half an hour, then added more snippets of past dreams for the sake of thoroughness. The battle scenes were common, he found, which was to be expected. What wasn't expected, and what he didn't write down right away, was the recurrence of his own death in the ice. Steve hadn't noticed how frequent these were because they were all a bit different. Sometimes he was watching the world change through a clear window of ice, and sometimes the frost bit into his skin and made him writhe with pain. Always, though, they ended with the breathless descent into blackness, the receding of the sun, and cold bubbles of air that never met the surface. Always, there was the feeling of finality, when it was time for him to die.  
 _I'll tell Elle about those,_ he decided firmly. But he didn't want to write them down.  
A knock sounded through Steve's quiet thoughts. He picked up the notebook and pen and went to answer the door.  
"Hey," Elle greeted him. She was dressed and showered, but it didn't look like she'd slept any more. There were the dark circles that were becoming normal, only today they were more pronounced, and every so often her gaze would go oddly distant. Her little metal fold-up cart was beside her filled with cloth bags. She looked him over and gave a half smile, "Loki's not out of his room yet. I left him a note, and Jet's staying to watch him. Want to go grocery shopping?"  
"Sure." Steve grabbed his keys off the hook by the door and locked his apartment behind them. That cart could hold most of the heavy groceries, and the store was just a few blocks away.  
"Want to grab some coffee on the way?" he offered, remembering there was a place called Caribou that smelled pretty good every time they passed it. They had plenty of time before nine o'clock, and visiting hours at the home started at nine thirty. Immediate family members could get in at all hours, but Steve figured they were taking Loki, and he wasn't sure the front desk ladies besides Marcy would consider Steve a family member of anyone there, immediate or otherwise.  
"That sounds good." Elle was still a little subdued, but that could have been because she was tired.  
Steve let the silence continue until they had ordered their coffees— a plain medium roast and a turtle mocha with and extra shot of espresso — to start a conversation. "I've got it." He paid with his debit card over a quiet protest from Eleanore. He brushed it off and they left the shop and walked toward the grocery store once again.  
"We can sit in here," Elle pointed into a public alley garden that was enclosed on three sides by buildings. She pulled a device out of her pocket and Steve recognized the scrambler that would make their conversation truly private.  
Steve followed her to a black metal mesh bench beside a lilac bush. The metal cart sat beside them, a tree stood above, and the lilacs were fading from bloom.  
"I already got over… earlier," Eleanore began, furrowing her brow and looking straight ahead. "You didn't have to make it up to me."  
"I know," Steve assured her. "But still. Sorry."  
Elle shrugged. "Did you like the pen?"  
"Yeah, it's great. Both of these are. Thank you." Steve handed her the notebook and took a sip of coffee. "How did you know?"  
She smiled absently, "Darren likes fountain pens, too. He has a whole collection, and he mentioned that you probably used to use them all the time. So I looked for one in the store yesterday, and I Googled what kind of nibs were common in the forties, and I found a steel one. We can get more ink online, and I put a converter in it so you can refill it really easily."  
Steve pictured the whole process and shook his head. "I never would have thought of that."  
"Yes you would, if it was a gift."  
"Well, I used your gifts," Steve said, cutting to the meat of the matter. "Do you want to read it?"  
"Only if you want me to. Otherwise, we can just talk."  
"Go ahead." Steve felt apprehensive, but he knew he should share last night's dream especially with her, and it would be easier if she just read what had happened.  
Elle opened the book and scanned quickly through the lines. Her expression didn't change no matter what part she read, so Steve had a hard time gauging her reaction. When she was finished, she gave him back the notebook and stared across the small courtyard for a moment in silence. "Do you know, I love lilacs."  
"You do?" Steve wondered if there was going to be a metaphor or a story behind that statement that would help him understand his dreams better.  
"Yeah. There are huge lilac bushes on my family's farm, all along the driveway. My grandma planted them when they built their house. When I was younger, my cousins and I would crawl through little tunnels in the branches and make a fort."  
"That's…" Steve trailed off, not sure where he was going and not sure where Elle had gone. "That sounds nice."  
"It was." Elle sipped her mocha thoughtfully and looked past Steve to the bush behind him. "So, do you think this thing with Loki will work out?"  
"I don't know yet," he answered honestly. "I know you're doing everything you can, but it's just too soon to say. He's going to take a long time to trust us with anything personal, and it's hard to trust him until he does."  
"He saved my life, though." Elle pointed out.  
"He has to keep us alive. But yeah, he did." Steve frowned, thinking of the other enchantments. "We're just so tied to him, it's hard not to feel trapped myself, I guess. His life depends on this working, but he doesn't want it to succeed."  
"Not yet. But maybe he will. He's still affected by the scepter, you know."  
"Where is he with that? Could they take back his control?"  
"Mmm… I don't think so." Elle looked at the sky, where a few wispy clouds were meandering. "I think it's making him have bad dreams too, though."  
"Seems like everyone has that problem," Steve muttered.  
"Lots of people do. It's a common thing." Elle paused and looked Steve over. He wondered what she saw. "But tell me more about your stuff. We don't get to talk one on one much anymore."  
So Steve told her about the recurring dreams, and about the other ones he hadn't written down. He told her about Bucky dying over and over again, and appearing later in modern times just out of the corner of Steve's eye. He talked about nightmares of Peggy's death and him being unable to be there when it happened. He explained the battle scenes in short sentences because he never wanted anyone else to imagine something so awful. He even mentioned the recollections coming up when he was awake, although he didn't tell her that they were worse when he was alone. Eleanore listened until he was done, nodding occasionally and asking questions to make sure she understood.  
"So that's it." Steve held up the notebook and shrugged one shoulder. "Now you know."  
"Yes I do," Elle said, sitting back. "Do you feel any better for telling me?"  
"Some," Steve admitted. He felt lighter, like he was sharing a physical weight he'd previously been carrying by himself.  
"Your memories are really vivid," was the next comment, made in an analytical tone.  
"They got clearer after the serum."  
"We should ask Bruce about that. But for now, is there anything I can do to help?"  
It was Steve's turn to stare across the garden. "You do help. Inviting me over, talking to me. Teaching me new things. I don't know what else you could do."  
"We could knock out the walls of the hallway and make one big apartment."  
"Well, short of that." Steve had to chuckle at that joking suggestion. "Anyway, it's getting late. Should we shop?"  
"Sure, lead the way." They both got up and deposited their coffees in the trash can on their way out of the garden.  
"I don't have a grocery list." Steve thought of the potential problem when they were almost to the store.  
"Oh crap," Eleanore's eyes widened, "neither do I."  
"You were the one who wanted to go grocery shopping," he laughed outright, incredulous. Elle always had a list.  
"It was a spur of the moment thing. I'll just get what I know I need. Milk, bread, eggs, oatmeal, brown sugar, peanut butter, regular butter, chicken…"  
Steve followed, mentally marking off his own items and smiling to himself. It might be another good day.

 _ **A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I've been really busy these past few weeks, but I've been working on this chapter on and off. I'd love to hear what you think of it.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading,**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	16. Chapter 16: L Visiting

The sunny main room was relatively quiet when Loki emerged. Charlie rubbed against his leg as he took in the scene. The dragon-dog was on the couch, apparently asleep, but Loki did not trust appearances. Eleanore's bedroom door was ajar, displaying an empty desk that contained her computer, a tall mug of writing utensils, and a notebook. The kitchen was dark and spotless, with no dishes or pans to signal Loki had missed breakfast. The clock on the wall read eight, so he wasn't late for the plans laid out the night before. The bathroom door was also open and dim. There was nowhere, really, in this tiny space for a person to hide.

Loki mentally shrugged and did not question his good fortune. He'd slept well the night before, and he was feeling at least interested in the day ahead. "Visiting" was not something he looked forward to, but seeing the dragon fly was. Asgardians hunted dragons every few hundred years or so for sport, but Loki had never gotten the chance to participate in the activity. The last time one had occurred, he had been in the middle of a strict routine that was meant to teach himself and Thor about ruling. Dragons were solitary creatures, and they avoided the Vanir as much as the Vanir tried to avoid them. Thus, Loki had only caught glimpses of them from afar, or from the back of a Chitauri flying ship. Watching one move was something very few people saw and lived to tell the tale, and no one had ridden a dragon before in recorded history. Loki was curious as to how this situation came about.

 _Plenty of time to reflect on that later._ He shook himself from his thoughts and walked quickly into Eleanore's bedroom. The dragon merely watched through half-lidded eyes as Loki picked up the foldable computer and opened it. The screen came to life immediately with a picture of Darren laughing in what looked like a place of Midgardian scientific study, then it changed to one of the cat leaning over the couch, eyes large as it stalked the camera holder. Loki frowned at the apparent lack of options. He knew this machine was used for much more than a display of pictures. As though it was mocking him, the screen went dark.

He moved his focus to the non-imagery on the silver body. There were letters and symbols, some familiar and some a mystery. There were buttons on the side, and ports for attaching to other electronics. Cautiously, Loki hit one of the keys, and the screen lit up again, this time scrolling to a blue background with a small picture of Eleanore above the words _Eleanore Engman_ , which was above _Password_ , which was above a blank white box with a vertical black line that appeared and disappeared at regular intervals.

Loki hit a letter key and a black dot appeared in the white box. So not only was there a password, but Loki would have to figure out the specific sequence of symbols in this language, which could include numbers and other characters. He sighed in frustration. _Clever, mortal_. Just for good measure, Loki typed C _harlie_ and _Darren_ , but the computer told him these were incorrect. He used his senses to feel around the components, their flow and workings, but he could find no data without a spell. Magic might be able to break into the machine, but Loki had not tried it on any delicate Midgardian electronics yet, and any signs of tampering would inevitably lead back to him.

He decided to wait for a better opportunity, then tried to figure out how to make the computer screen go back to normal. Pressing every key didn't seem like a good idea, so he waited until the screen went black again, then turned it back on. The message of an incorrect password was gone, and the pictures had returned.

Next, Loki picked up the notebook and thumbed through it. The first page was titled simply Journal, and dated for the day Loki had returned to this miserable planet. Underneath, in slanted, sharp handwriting, was a brief account of the first night from Eleanore's perspective. "Loki's angry… Steve is worried… Darren and Nat on our side… Fury - unsure." _"Angry,"_ Loki thought, was an understatement. He hated being here, and hated his mortal captors even more. But in lieu of language strong enough to express the blinding red that overcame his vision at the very mention of obedience or Odin or Thor, "angry" could cover her perception.

The next two days were marked similarly, and included Loki helping scout, saving Eleanore's life, charging at Thor, and having conversations. He was amused to find other accounts of the Captain's reactions to certain things Loki had said. There was no assumed message from anything Loki said or did. The way Eleanore wrote was not meant to derive meaning, but rather to keep the facts straight. There were also small drawings of no apparent consequence in the margins around almost every page. Flowers, Jet, the Captain's shield, a likeness of Darren's helmet, a cat's eye. Eleanore must have outlined them when she was thinking.

Loki looked around a noted that it was nearing nine o'clock already. His cautious examination of the computer had taken a while, and then getting used to reading English in Eleanore's scrawl had taken longer. He arranged the notebook and the computer exactly as they had been on the desk and walked into the living room. The dragon eyed him again, but Loki had never heard of one of them speaking or communicating with people in any way. Then again, he'd never heard of anyone riding a dragon either before he came to this backward realm. He would just have to rely on the dragon's nonchalance to keep his snooping secret.

There was coffee in the clear pot, and a note on the lid.

" _Loki,_

 _I went for groceries with Steve. We'll be back by 9. There's oatmeal with instructions on the container in the cupboard, or anything you find in the fridge."_

 _~Elle_

So that was where she was. As usual, she and the Captain were overly-trusting to leave him alone, although the magic binding him would prevent escape. That magic was the one hindrance to an otherwise perfect situation: rest, food, and captors who were too dull to figure out any plots he might create. More disturbing, though, was the fact that she already knew he liked coffee enough to leave important messages on it. Loki debated putting the drink back and pretending he had never seen it, so she wouldn't get ideas about how well she knew him. He reconsidered, though, because a false sense of security for her was an advantage for him. He poured a mug and added sugar and creamer, then turned to his food options.

He did not want the oatmeal mush. Although the flavor was not bad, its consistency was just like the food Asgardian patients ate in the medical ward. There was a bit of the leftover stir-fry in a container in the refrigerator, so Loki heated it with magic and grabbed a fork from the drawer. The vegetables did not go well with the coffee, but he ate them anyway. By themselves, they were good. He got a glass of water and left the coffee for after the meal.

The door handle turned as he took his first sip of the cooled beverage. "Hey, did you eat? Good." Eleanore glanced at his empty bowl and pushed a little metal cart inside. She was wearing a white sleeveless shirt and blue shorts with old-looking light blue shoes. The Captain silently followed her inside and picked up a couple of bags before heading out the door to his own rooms. Eleanore darted around the kitchen, opening cupboard door and setting things inside, moving similar items around, reorganizing the refrigerator. "I got some cold coffee creamer if you'd like to try it some time. I never get it for just me because I don't drink it fast enough before it goes bad." She held up a bottle that said _White Chocolate Mocha_ before placing it beside the milk on the door. "Does anything sound good for supper? Maybe we'll go out."

"I am not familiar enough with your realm's cuisine to make a suggestion." Loki finished his coffee with a gulp and watched where she placed everything. The spice cupboard also held two boxes of something called pasta and two jars of Alfredo, along with multi-colored rice. Directly above the stove was a very small cupboard that revealed 'popcorn' and a bag of coffee, and Eleanore set three small cans of cat food there as well. Crinkling bags of 'chips' went on top of the refrigerator and a box of granola protein bars went above the sink. Frozen bags of vegetables and packages of meat were logically put in the freezer, and fresh greens ones were in a small drawer in the refrigerator. The little closet off the kitchen was stocked with cans and potatoes and onions and rolls of furrowed paper like the one that hung over the sink. The shelf that held the warming box also took boxes of cereal, bags of sugar and flour, and other unfamiliar items like 'baking soda' and liquid vanilla. A couple of bottles of the sparkling grape juice, one green, one reddish, sat under these with a couple of pieces of Midgardian machinery with silver blades and plastic cups and 'peanut butter'. Her movements were quick and precise, and the process only took a few minutes total.

"There," Eleanore said, straightening and folding the cloth bags, crumpling the plastic ones. "We're a little late, but it shouldn't matter. Did you have a good morning? That shirt looks nice."

"It was well enough. And thank you." He was wearing one of the buttoned tunics from 'Pepper' and the black set of trousers and shoes. Everything fit very well, and Loki felt airy and comfortable. He was fond of mornings started early, with dawning twilights spent riding through fields or walking along quiet back roads. Breakfasts in Frigga's garden… _Stop right there._ _That was never yours and never will be again._

"I'm going to start getting up and exercising over at the gym. Would you be interested in that?" Eleanore got some small plastic bags from a drawer and bread from beside the warming box. She reached slices of meat and cheese from the refrigerator, not looking at Loki for an answer.

"Perhaps," He couldn't imagine sparring with her the same way he had with Darren and Rogers, but perhaps he could learn something of her magic. He could certainly stand to build his strength again on the machines meant for stronger mortals. He would even use the clothing the mysterious Pepper had donated for that purpose, although Loki would avoid any trousers that went above his ankles.

"Cool. Steve said something about taking your running sometime, probably really early. He'll bring up the details in the car." She had put together several sandwiches and was placing them in a small, square, dotted bag over water bottles and packs of ice she took from the freezer. "Picnic lunch for when we go flying," she explained, zipping the container closed. "Ready, Jet?"

The dragon leapt down from the couch and walked sedately to the door as Eleanore refilled the cat's food and water. Loki followed them from the apartment and waited while she locked the door behind them. The Captain emerged from his apartment and accompanied them down the stairs to the vehicle area.

"I'm driving, so who calls shotgun?" Eleanore asked, putting the food in the back seat and allowing the dragon to leap inside.

"I do," Loki said immediately, though he knew already this unfamiliar term would in no way involve a weapon.

"Go ahead," the Captain said affably, getting in the back seat behind the driver. His knees almost hit the seat in front of him, but Eleanore pulled it forward a bit to give him room.

Loki took his cue and got in the front passenger seat, relishing the space it gave his long legs. He put the strapping device on because he figured he would be ordered to otherwise, and then they were underway.

"Loki said 'perhaps' to going to the gym in the morning," Eleanore began after a few minutes of silence. "I'll get up at five to run and meet you there at six."

"Sounds good," the Captain replied. He was leaning against the arm rest on the door and looking out the window when Loki glanced back. "Loki, do you want to run with me before that, maybe around the neighborhood?"

"Certainly." Loki couldn't very well say no to the offer, not if he wanted to regain some of the strength he'd lost being a prisoner. Besides, he'd always enjoyed endurance conditioning that did not rely on strength alone. He wondered how fast the Captain could go, and whether he would be offended if Loki ran ahead on his own.

"Four thirty sound good?"

"Yes." Loki knew from his sleepless night that dawn would begin a little after that time. The streets would be mostly deserted, allowing the two of them to unleash their full strength without drawing unwanted attention.

The rest of the ride was quiet, ending at a large building with many windows and a couple security guards stationed at its entrance. Loki frowned in thought as he exited the vehicle. Was this where her mother worked? Was it an extension of SHIELD? Were the guards there because he was in attendance, or was this a valuable building?

"They added the guards after the aliens," Eleanore explained both to Loki and the Captain. "Mom says it helps prevent escapes, too."

 _Escapes?_ Loki thought. Was this a prison? It looked nothing like any dungeon he'd ever seen, but Midgardians were apparently soft with their troublemakers.

"Here, Loki." Eleanore handed him an access card with his picture and his name on it. The picture was from his imprisonment on the battleship aircraft, but the background had been removed so it just looked like an image of his head and shoulders. The name read only _Loki._ He wondered if they had done that from lack of knowledge, or out of deference to the family who no longer claimed him. He shrugged it off as they approached the doors, and mimicked Eleanore and the Captain as they showed their own identification to the guards, who opened the doors with the press of a remote.

They were admitted to a high-ceilinged room with a desk in its center at which an old woman sat. The floor was white tile, and the walls were painted a light shade of gray, hung with paintings and dispersed with benches and plants.

"It's about time you showed up," the old woman said as she caught sight of Eleanore. "They've been worried about you two. And who might this be?"

"Hi Marcy, sorry it's been a while." Eleanore walked up to the desk and leaned against it. "This is Loki. We just started working together, and I thought Mom might like to meet him."

"Oh, I know about that," the woman narrowed her eyes at him and scrutinized his entire being with a glance. She smiled after a moment and stuck out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Loki."

Loki forced himself to step forward and return the gesture. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

"Hi Marcy," Rogers smiled and nodded. "How've they been?"

"Oh, pretty well. Lydia's having a constant IV, I'm sure you've heard." Eleanore nodded at that, and the old woman continued. "I haven't heard anything about them yet today, but I think they're okay."

"Thanks," Eleanore smiled and walked toward a set of reinforced doors. "We won't keep them long, probably."

"Tell them I say hi," Marcy pressed a button under her desk as Loki and the Captain walked away, opening the doors. Whatever else this place was, it had a high level of Midgardian security.

The doors led into a wide hallway painted white with yellow carpeting. Doors lined the walls, and a few elderly people walked along, whispering to each other as the visitors approached. Some of them paused to pat Jet's ears, which he allowed, but they only smiled unfamiliarly at Eleanore, who returned the expression and kept walking. The doors had numbered plates beside them, some of which had names. Eleanore paused at the one labeled _132: Engman_.

"Mom?" She knocked in quick succession on the gray panel.

" _Come in,_ " a woman's voice called from inside.

Eleanore turned the handle and let herself into the room first, holding a hand behind her to keep Loki and the Captain back. "You okay with multiple visitors today?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, babe. You already asked me that." The voice and inflections were markedly similar to Eleanore's.

Eleanore straightened and glanced back. "Just making sure," she said before heading into the bright, sunlit room.

Loki followed, sensing nervousness on the part of the Captain. He walked into the room, prepared to meet the woman from the pictures, with the chestnut hair and dark eyes of her daughter.

What he found was a thin shadow of that person. Eleanore stood next to her mother, her healthy features enhancing the clear message that the other woman's body sent: _I am dying._ Loki controlled himself to prevent the visible recoil and gape that the sight caused. His gut twisted. He'd never seen anyone so ill before, and he wondered in the back of his mind if this was some Midgardian disease that the other two were immune to, and whether or not he could contract it. Eleanore's mother was thin and frail, and obviously weak. The needle and tube running from her arm made her look like a wisp held to Earth by a clear tether. Gaunt and pale, her dark hair and eyes made her a specter summoned back from the dead.

"Hi Steve," the phantom said, her voice the only robust thing about her. "And you must be Loki." She focused on back to him, and he forced himself to stand tall.

"I am," he said, stepping forward for the handshake. He would _not_ show fear, especially in response to someone who obviously could not cause him harm. "And you must be the Lady Lydia. Eleanore has spoken of you." Loki plastered on his most courteous fake smile and set his body to show he was at ease.

"Such nice manners!" Lydia Engman smiled, suddenly the older, ghostly image of her daughter. "Pleased to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Loki took a seat as she gestured, intent on keeping the woman smiling so he could get used to her appearance more easily. His reactions were already calming, becoming familiar with the subtle differences between the mother and daughter. Lydia's eyes were very slightly smaller, her mouth slightly bigger, her ears rounder, her cheek bones less angular. She was a bit shorter than her daughter as well, and her hair was straight and cut short to frame her face.

These distinctions helped Loki distance himself from his shock. By the time Lydia was done greeting the Captain and everyone was seated, he could look at her without cringing.

"So, how were finals?" Lydia asked her daughter.

Eleanore lit up and took a deep breath, launching into a detailed explanation of everything she thought she'd done right and wrong, the professors, and the 'checking out' process. "I'll get my diploma sometime next week. Then I can hang it on the wall and go fight crime."

"I heard SHIELD's letting you pass the agent's exam," Lydia smiled proudly. Loki listened to that with interest. Did it mean he'd assist 'crime fighting'? Would he gain SHIELD's trust through simple tasks like taking down Midgard's criminals?

"Yeah, but no solo missions," Eleanore assured her. "I'll probably work with the Avengers a lot." Loki's hopes were dashed at that, but he shrugged it off. He had to gain that team's trust as well, so he might as well start as soon as possible.

"Just be careful," Lydia sighed, pulling her daughter in for an embrace. Loki looked away, more uncomfortable with displays of affection than with diseased humans.

"I'll go see Peggy quick," Rogers rose to leave.

"Elle, you might want to go with," Lydia suggested. "She's been a little… off these past few days. I don't know how she'll respond to Steve."

"Okay," Eleanore stood with Rogers, then looked at Loki. "Do you want to come with us?"

"He can stay and keep me company," Lydia said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Loki considered it and accepted. "Of course." It was better than going along to be ambushed by another old or diseased person who he had to control his reactions around and get used to. He looked up and found both the Captain and Eleanore giving him searching gazes. "I can hardly leave this facility with so many guards, now can I?" he teased them.

"Pfft, if only that were true." Eleanore rolled her eyes and smiled. "We'll be back soon. Have fun." She pushed the Captain gently out of the room.

Loki heard their footsteps receding without a word, and he figured Eleanore had gauged his hearing distance. He was surprised at their trust again, but they probably figured even he wouldn't hurt a sick woman. They were right, but that didn't mean he couldn't have any fun. He turned back to Lydia with a disarming smile. "Your daughter is a _very_ generous roommate." He let his tone imply every possibility the words could contain.

Lydia scrutinized him in much the same way Marcy of the front desk had. "How's my old bed? Comfy?"

That caught him off guard. He laughed, actually impressed. "It is nearly too short for me. Your desk is a comfortable height, however."

"It was always a little tall for my liking." Lydia smiled benevolently at him. "I'm glad you like it. Is Elle still painting?"

"I have only been with her a few days," Loki replied. "As far as I can tell, she _has_ painted." He looked around and found Jet staring at him from the bed. Decided to try a bit more fun. "There is one in my room of the dragon in flight."

"I wondered if she ever finished that." Lydia grinned over at Jet, who jumped down and came to sit beside her. She petted his head and scratched his ears. "Are you ever going to stop trying to shock me, or is this how you have a conversation?"

"My apologies," Loki adopted a humble pose, his hand over his heart, eyes downcast. "Eleanore did not tell me how perceptive you are."

"She didn't tell you I have cancer, either, did she?" The older woman who, Loki had to remind himself, was a thousand years younger than he was, looked up at her IV bag. She met his gaze again, challenging.

"She did not," Loki admitted.

"So that's why you froze when you walked in here. I figured." Lydia shrugged and smirked a little.

"Forgive me. We do not have such maladies where I am from." Loki mentally referenced Asgard, thinking that the Jotun monsters might have diseases he'd never heard of.

"It's fine. Do you want to know about it? Elle doesn't like to bring it up. Not since I've gotten worse." A sadness entered her eyes as she spoke, but she blinked it away.

"If you will tell me, I will learn." Loki liked this woman, despite her daughter. Or perhaps because of her. The juxtaposition of two similar women, one who could control him and one who could not, both with straightforward, entertaining personalities made him realize how he liked speaking with people just for amusement. Over the centuries, he'd drawn back from Thor's friends and struck out on his own, saying what he had to be accepted, largely existing alone. He did not care overly much for the mortals' acceptance at this point, since they distrusted him anyway. He could say what he wanted, and thus far they seemed to accept it. "Have you been ill a long time?"

"Two years," Lydia replied. "Since right before Elle started college. It's a long-term thing."

Two years would seem a long time to be diseased, even to Loki. "That must be difficult."

"It wasn't too bad at first. I lived at home — the apartment — and came here for treatment. They kept finding tumors, though, and I moved in here so I could get the twenty-four-hour care. You know, from someone other than my working, college student daughter." Lydia's smile turned forlorn. "I know you don't like her much yet, but you would if you saw how she dropped everything the minute she found out I was sick. At least now she can visit and live a normal life."

"Normal is a relative term," Loki muttered, earning a laugh. He ignored Lydia's boast of her daughter's selflessness. Of course a mother would be proud of that. Frigga used to praise him for the same thing, long ago, when he would suspend his plans to help with some royal duty.

"Normal for her. A life she loves." Lydia shook her head and drew a deep breath. "But anyway. How do you like Earth so far? I've never spoken to a prince before. Is there some etiquette I should follow?"

"You are not speaking to a prince now," Loki informed her, fighting back a scowl and scornful tone. "Any etiquette will suffice for a disgraced non-royal."

"Sorry," Lydia apologized, laying a hand on his arm. Loki glared at it, but she didn't take it back until he met her eyes and found real remorse there. "I didn't know about that. Elle just said you were staying with her for a while. Learning about Earth and the value of life."

"So you know it is a sentence I am serving," Loki said tightly. "Did she tell you what I did to deserve it?" He'd finally found an opportunity for shock, and he wasn't even going to be able to enjoy it.

"No."

"Well, she is charitable with her discretion." Loki warmed up, letting a gleeful smile creep onto his face, even though he didn't feel the emotion. "I tried to commit genocide to an entire realm — my apologies, a planet. Then I… escaped." Loki skipped over his failed attempt at death and kept the story horrifying. "I met someone with more power than I had at the time, and I came to Earth to conquer the planet for him. I brought the army to New York and directed them to destroy it." He bared his teeth in a grin and met Lydia's wide eyes, waiting for potential screams or any reaction.

She just looked at him for a moment, her hand still on his arm. Then she looked down at it, and back up to him. "Well, you didn't do a very good job, did you?"

Loki's mouth fell open before he could stop it. He gaped a moment at the sheer _audacity_ of this tiny mortal, frail as a stalk of grain with a metal spine. "I beg your pardon?"

"I read the damage report. The real one, not the public one. The destruction was contained to three city blocks, and you only sent a few of those big-ass ship things at a time. The ground forces were easy to kill. Some were taken down by unarmed civilians. Sure, you picked a good area to attack from, but the damage was so limited. You could have done a lot worse." Lydia sounded just like Eleanore when she was explaining something, no nonsense and a steady tone making her sound very informed for someone who wasn't actually there. "Tony even said there were tons more troops waiting on the other side of the portal. Waiting for what?"

" _Waiting_ for my _signal_ ," Loki growled, finally tossing her hand away. "I did not believe the eight mortals sent against me would triumph against such a force. They _should_ _not have_. I meant to obliterate them first. Your daughter and the rest."

"Good luck with that," Lydia said calmly. "Elle's tougher than she looks. And anyway, you're lying. If you wanted to obliterate them, you would have sent everything at once and _done_ it. No, you didn't want that guy controlling you to win." She stopped and gazed at him, lips tightening in a frown. "You didn't want to be a puppet."

"I am a god," Loki said, feeling his rage building at her statements of the truth. His mind was spinning, sluggish, trying to come up with appropriate responses. His control had not slipped past bearable levels, not like the incident with Thor in the magical cell. He was not even shouting. This woman was safe from physical harm. He _would_ hurt her, though. "You think to know my mind? I plan your daughter's death every day, every moment I can. She will die miserably, slowly. Tortured in every way I can find."

"If you say so," Lydia said agreeably. "Why don't you sit and calm down before they come back? We can talk about something else."

Loki noticed for the first time that he was standing. When had that happened? He moved the chair out of reach (out of _his_ reach, to avoid any substantial confrontation) and sat again. He breathed slowly, waiting until the rage left him drained. It happened more quickly than ever before, leaving his thoughts slow and pointless, his body weary. Lydia was sitting, waiting for him to speak again. He couldn't think of much to discuss, other than obvious queries he had about her illness. "How long do you have left to live?" He spoke the question not to bring pain, but because he was curious and didn't care what she reported back to Eleanore at this point. She was fearless, and even peaceful when faced with her mortality. _Perhaps it is a mortal trait, because they die so easily._

"The doctors say a year, tops." Lydia sat back comfortably, fiddling with the IV cord. "Probably less, though. The cancer's all over my body now, and the treatments I get here only slow it down. If I stopped those, I'd have a couple of months."

Loki pondered knowing the date of his own death, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it. He'd felt something like that in the instant before letting go on the bridge, but it was a moment in time. This was days and months just to wait for such news, and then more time to wait for the end. "I apologize for my overreaction."

"It's okay." Lydia stood, holding onto the silver stand her medicine rested upon. She wore, Loki noted, loose gray trousers and pink running shoes with a yellow shirt under a purple knitted jacket. She walked over to a counter, taking the stand with her.

"May I assist you?" Loki asked, inwardly wincing at the painfully slow steps she was taking.

"No, if I sit for too long, my hips and back hurt." Lydia pulled a strangely-shaped pot with a small lid, handle, and spout from a little cupboard and placed it on a small device that looked like the top of Eleanore's stove. "Do you like tea?"

"I have never tried it here," Loki said honestly. He got up and walked over to the picture display on the table under the television. These were large frames showing portraits of Eleanore and her cousins through the years, starting when they were very young. Smaller photographs also showed duplicates of the farm photos from the apartment, with the same relatives. "Your sister looks very like you."

"June? Yeah, we take after our mom." Lydia left the stove and came to stand beside him, picking up a silver frame. "This is her, here, and my dad Ron. Her name was Sandy." It was the elderly couple posed near a field, smiling and laughing. Loki only saw the height from the father reflected in his daughters, for the mother was quite short.

"What happened to them?" he asked to be polite.

Lydia smiled sadly and raised an eyebrow. "My mom had cancer, too. When she died my dad went into really bad depression, and followed a couple years later." She went back to the counter, where the pot was making whistling noises. "So did you say you've been to Earth before?"

"I am recorded in your mythology," Loki welcomed the change in subject, turning to survey the rest of the room. A small sitting area just off the tiny kitchen, a closet next to the bed, which had two small tables for pictures as well. Eleanore was the main feature in these as well, along with a few other portraits on the walls. "Have you heard nothing of the Trickster God?"

"Didn't know you were so young," Lydia grinned and turned back with two steaming mugs in her hands. She gave one to Loki, and he smelled it. Cinnamon, he identified, along with other herbs.

It was hot, but he took a tentative sip and found it good. "Have you any sugar?"

"Elle got to you first," Lydia scoffed amiably, sitting down. "Can't have coffee without creamer, can't have tea without sugar. It's right above the sink."

"Thank you." Loki found it, and the silverware drawer, and spooned a little into the beverage. He liked it a great deal better than coffee. "I should have visited again sooner, if only for the tea."

"It's Bengal Spice," Lydia explained as Loki sat again in the same chair. "Did you visit anywhere other than Europe, then?"

"It was not called Europe nine hundred years ago, but no." Loki smirked as she raised her eyebrows. "I believe you called me 'young' a moment ago. You may take it back if you wish."

"No, you're young. Even if you've lived nine hundred-some years, you're young."

"You say that as a mother," Loki stirred his tea again. It was the best thing he'd had on Midgard, ever.

"Yeah," Lydia crossed her legs, "mothers feel old all the time. Why do they call you the God of Mischief, then?"

"I have no idea. I was much less mischievous back then. I first came here as a child of around ten human years." Thor had dashed around as far as Odin would let him go. Loki had stayed close to his not-father's side, fearful of the savages in furs. "Then we made visits every twelve years or so until Odin cut off relations with Midgard when I was one hundred and twenty. I will admit, I made trips unknown to him over the years, but Midgard was slow to develop then. I have not been here for five hundred years." He'd become disillusioned with the fur-clad sailors who could not see beyond their little islands. No longer afraid of the savages, he was impatient with them. "I suppose I was more artful by that time."

"How do you speak English, then?"

"The Allspeak is a magical gift given to all Asgardians when they turn five years old," he explained, barely remembering that bestowal. Just a yellow flash from an ancient stone, along with a number of other five year-olds. Thor had been inaugurated the year before. "It is a tradition, in case any child gets stuck on another realm."

"So you could speak any language. That's useful." Lydia turned her head toward the door as footsteps approached. Eleanore entered first, looking strained. The Captain did not follow, but Loki could hear him in the hallway, heaving a loud sigh. "Bad day?"

"She yelled at us," Eleanore sat on the floor beside her mother and leaned her head on Lydia's knee. She looked up at Loki, actual tears threatening to fall until she blinked them away. "Tea, huh? Bengal Spice?"

Loki narrowed his eyes at her as Lydia carded a hand through her hair where it was not bound back. He saw the opportunity to cause her some pain, but his last attempt at something like that had backfired. Besides, the Captain was just outside the door, no doubt feeling even worse since he did not come inside. "Your mother was kind enough to host."

"He put sugar in it," Lydia said, which earned her an impish smile from her daughter.

"That's how it's good." Eleanore rose and gave her mother a hug. "I think we need to go. We're gonna picnic while Jet flies around. I'll send you pictures."

"Sounds good, sweetheart. Tell Steve I said goodbye, and I'm sorry. Loki, come back anytime." Lydia stood to walk them to the door and closed it behind them.

Loki stole a glance at Rogers, but the man was stone-faced, his entire body stiff with tension. Jet led them outside to the car. The hall was empty, and Loki could smell food scents wafting on the conditioned air. Lunchtime.

They all piled into the car in the same order, and Eleanore drove onto a large road where she sped the car to purely unsafe speeds. Loki was used to traveling either by horse or Bifrost, so hurtling down a strip of pavement in a tiny metal container surrounded by other bigger metal containers seemed insane. He had serious doubts about the effectiveness of the cloth strap across his chest and middle keeping him from any fiery death a collision would cause.

"So what did you talk to Mom about?" Eleanore asked after a few minutes of silence.

"We discussed your family." Loki estimated he'd either get a good or bad reaction from that subject. "You look like your grandmother."

"I get that a lot. She worked with SHIELD, so a lot of people still meet me and say 'Oh, I can see Sandy's genes got passed on!'" Eleanore used a high-pitched, sarcastic voice. "Did you like the tea?"

"I did," Loki admitted. "I told her about my previous visits to Midgard. She called me young."

"She always calls my friends young." Eleanore smiled, steering around a large transportation vehicle. Loki ignored her claim of him as a friend in favor of letting her focus on not getting them killed. "When I started dating Darren, she called him the Stark boy. I think it's an Iowa thing, or maybe just in my family."

"She explained cancer to me as well." Loki was looking for a reaction now, watching Eleanore out of the corner of his eye as they sped down a stretch of open road.

She sighed, looking weary. "Sorry I didn't warn you about that. I didn't think you had anything like it on Asgard, so I didn't want to explain it all in detail. I thought if you saw it, you'd get it."

Once again, his subject was not reacting the way he expected. Loki sat in silence, processing the reasoning behind Eleanore's actions and finding the truth in them. He wouldn't have understood if she'd tried to explain it, and he would have reacted the same way to seeing a dying person. "Asgard does not have diseases like that."

"I figured."

They rode in silence a while longer, until Eleanore took the car off of the large road and onto a curving one that went into a forest. She pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned building and disembarked without a word. Jet loped around the car after her as she opened the rear storage area and retrieved the sandwiches and a couple of blankets.

Loki got out of the car, stretching, watching the Captain do the same. The trees around them gave off a nice smell, like the giant firs on Vanaheim. These were smaller and sparser, but the sunshine and scent transported Loki for a moment. He breathed deeply with his eyes closed until the _thump_ of the car closing brought him back.

"Let's go over to the meadow," Eleanore said, leading them away from the car. Jet ran ahead, transforming before Loki's eyes into a beast of legend, all sparkling scales, outstretched wings, blue spikes. "He's excited," Eleanore explained, grinning back at the two men. Rogers gave no response, his eyes distant. Loki just followed in awe, feeling the magic coiling off the dragon in waves. It was more power than the scepter had given him, though not as much as the Tesseract. It was amazing, conscious and unconscious at the same time. Natural, innate energy, drawing from some unknown source. Those who hunted dragons said they gained strength from killing them. Loki could believe it. Watching one of these creatures die would be like witnessing one of the grand volcanoes of Muspelheim.

Jet looked back for a moment, then took off running, bounding thirty feet at a time, his wings gliding him along. Eleanore laughed delightedly and ran after him, encumbered by the things she carried. The dragon disappeared around the corner of the building, and the young woman followed seconds later. There was a pause, then a scream. Loki heard something fall to the ground, and then the steady beating of wings.

He glanced at the Captain and raised his eyebrows. Together, they took off sprinting for the sunlit clearing visible just around the dark building. They reached it just in time to see Jet shoot into the air, Eleanore clinging to his back and whooping over the rushing wind.

Loki felt a grin creeping over his face at the display of raw physical strength and freedom, but he fought it back. Beside him, the Captain's stony facade cracked into a full smile, and he looked every bit the young man he was as he gazed into the sky.

"Wonder where the saddle is," was his sole comment before he tore his eyes away and bent to pick up the blankets and container Eleanore had dropped. Loki followed him across the field through knee-high grass and spread a blanket over the ground at the edge of the trees.

"How far can they go?" Loki asked, looking up and catching sight of the pair making a wide circle over the entire skyline. They were very fast, like the dragons he'd seen swooping over Vanaheim's mountains. He could barely make out Eleanore's form on the dragon's back.

"Elle said Tony extended the interceptor's range, so about ten miles without being seen." The Captain shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted up at his friend. They were doing complicated maneuvers, twisting and looping through the sky.

Loki held out his hand and pulled a lensed scope from his magical storage. It was old, but effective, showing every detail of the flight as though seen from a mere hundred feet away instead of the miles it was. Jet was climbing higher, straining faster with each pulse of his wings. They were growing more distant, even through the device Loki held. They disappeared into one of the tall clouds, and Loki could not find them again. He took the glass away and watched the cloud.

"You have another one of those?" Rogers asked, looking over at Loki.

"No," Loki said smugly, raising the device again. He caught a glimpse of something moving quickly downward out of the cloud and refocused it. Felt cold fingers grip his heart. Eleanore was falling alone, arms outstretched to control her descent. "Here," he handed the scope over to Rogers, who took it and cursed almost immediately. Loki ignored him, calculating just where he would have to transport himself and how quickly he could slow them before they hit the ground. Just as he was about to transport, Jet shot out of the cloud as well, curving with wings outstretched to catch Eleanore mid-tumble.

"Son of a gun," the Captain breathed, handing the lens back to Loki.

They watched together as the duo flew over the treetops and turned back to land a moment later in the middle of the meadow. Eleanore was laughing as she tumbled off the dragon's back, hair flying out of her braid in spiraling tendrils. Jet took off immediately after she hit the ground, rising in lazy circles and gliding away between the clouds.

"Elle, are you okay?" Rogers rushed over, helping the smiling woman to her feet. On the heels of his concern was exasperation. "Couldn't have warned us?"

"Haven't tried it before." Eleanore was unrepentant, bouncing on the tips of her toes. "Did you see that catch, though? It was amazing!"

"Amazing." The Captain shook his head. "Yeah, sure. Just let us know next time. Loki almost tried to save you."

"Thanks for almost saving me," Eleanore laughed over at Loki.

He rolled his eyes, only mildly impressed with the feat she'd accomplished. He couldn't stop a small grin from escaping as he saw the canny look in her eye. It mirrored how he felt when he'd pulled off a particularly complicated prank on Thor or Sif. "I would prefer not to risk my life unnecessarily for you." Or at all, really. But since she and the Captain were both so interested in dangerous activities, Loki had accepted that protecting them would occupy his thoughts much of the time. Especially considering his own life relied on their safety.

"Good thing you didn't then." Eleanore shook the rest of her hair out of the braid and put the band on her wrist. She accompanied them back to the blankets and sat, picking up the food container. "So. Who's hungry?"

 _ **A/N: Sorry for the long wait between chapters! I've been writing other scenes for this story, which I'm working toward. Lots of ideas, and lots of ways to implement them. I'm already working on the next chapter, so I think it will be up by the end of this weekend. Thanks for sticking with this drawn-out saga, and please rate and review!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	17. Chapter 17: S Air Show

They ate slowly, sitting on the blankets, watching Jet swooping through and around the clouds above them. Eleanore made a quick trip back to her car and got a pair of sunglasses before lying back propped on her elbows, shoes and socks discarded on the grass. Loki stood after he was finished eating and looked through the little telescope he had. From time to time, he'd lower it, blink, look around, and then go back to his observation. Jet was going to fly for a few hours today, to train for possible missions in the future.

Steve let himself recover first from the scare Elle had given him, falling out of the sky with no warning. The adrenaline wore off almost immediately, but he was on edge until he was done with his second sandwich and third refill of water. After he'd calmed down a little, he sat with one arm behind him for support, the other draped over his bent leg. He couldn't see Jet very well because he was so high up, so he watched the trees sway in the wind, the birds hopping from grass to branch, and wished he'd brought his sketchbook.

The sunny day was a balm on his sore heart. Peggy hadn't acted like herself at all, first scolding Eleanore for not visiting, and then Steve for not coming to see her sooner. Apparently she'd seen him on the news coverage of New York, and had forgotten about his previous visits altogether. She'd gone on a rant for a good ten minutes, and Steve hadn't had the heart to interrupt her. Elle hadn't either, but eventually she cut in and apologized, which calmed Peggy down quite a bit. After that, Steve had gone through the story of waking up in the modern world and the alien battle. He'd done his best to act happy, but he knew he was failing when he'd faltered at the part where they went to Asgard. Elle took over from there, telling Peggy about the guy who'd propositioned her, about Loki coming back to Earth, about their plans for flying with Jet that afternoon. Peggy had gone quiet after Steve's waking up story, and hadn't spoken at all until Elle suggested they leave. Then, she'd told them not to come back unless they felt like treating her like a person.

" _It's the Alzheimer's."_ Elle had explained after they left the room. _"It just wasn't a good day."_

Steve understood. Knew the facts in his head. His chest still hurt, though, as he thought back through it and remembered each glare and guilt-charged moment. He'd held himself apart from the emotions in the hallway, in the car, and now in the quiet meadow.

He needed some time. "I'll be right back." Steve saw Eleanore's concerned look before she nodded and he turned and walked away.

The parking lot was where he'd had his first modern breakdown. Today wasn't as bad. Instead of crying, he just leaned against the shaded wall of the old factory and pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose where it met his eyes. There would be fewer and fewer 'good days' as the disease progressed. Neither Lydia or Peggy were going to last very long. Soon, he'd have to deal with loss all over again, and this time there were bad memories to go with the good. He loved Peggy, loved having her in this time, but he missed who she used to be, too, in a selfish way. It wasn't right to want Peggy to live longer for his own sake, but that was exactly how he felt. _Not that it matters. I'm seventy years too late. Just have to accept it._

Sparks started flying through his darkened vision, and he breathed deeply until the tightness and pain subsided a little. Steve sighed and looked up at the scattered, puffy clouds, feeling the cool masonry of the building behind him. Heard the rumbling of tires on pavement as Darren's car turned into view and parked next to Eleanore's.

"Hey," he greeted Steve, as the door opened over his head. "Not into the air show?"

"Just taking a walk." Steve stopped leaning on the building and stood straight, returning Darren's smile with a forced grin. "You here to watch?"

"Yeah, and I brought the saddle. And a new suit for Elle to test out. And a weapon for her, new things for you to try, and some stuff for Loki she asked me to bring the next time I came over. I guess he likes herbal tea now, and throwing knives." Darren gestured to the trunk of the car, and it opened, revealing a cloth grocery bag, the shining armor of Eleanore's suit, and something that looked like a long staff of the same colors. Beneath these things there was a black briefcase and a silver box. "Here," Darren held the saddle out and Steve stepped forward to take it. He also took the briefcase in one of his free hands, and Darren started balancing things in his own arms, the silver box first and then Elle's suit and weapon.

There were more latches and pockets on this version of the saddle, but it was lighter and exactly the color of Jet's spikes and eyes. "What's it made of?" he asked, recalling a time he'd asked Howard the same thing about his shield. That sank him even further into depression because Peggy had shot at him then, and Bucky had been alive to laugh about it later. _Get it together._

"It's an experiment with Kevlar and graphene." Darren held up the material so Steve noticed a honeycomb pattern along the top layer. "Carbon-based and pretty strong, and Kevlar makes it tough. We're experimenting with carbyne in the labs, but so far we haven't gotten it to stick together, so graphene it is."

"How strong is it?" Steve studied the material and flexed it, finding a surprising amount of give.

"Twenty times stronger than diamond. I know," Darren said in response to Steve impressed expression. "But the problem is, it might not hold up when Jet flies. It has a low breaking point when it's bent, which is why I added the Kevlar. If this doesn't work, we'll go back to modified denim until I find a better option."

"Sounds good," Steve tried to search for the proper compliment, but came up empty. "Hope it works."

"Are you okay?" Darren asked, pausing a moment and looking Steve over worriedly. "Something happen?"

"I'm fine," Steve dismissed him, turning and walking back to the meadow to deliver the saddle.

A moment later, the younger Stark was beside him, arms full. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will," Steve promised. Then he thought about who he was talking to. "What do you know about Alzheimer's?"

"We've got an entire research team dedicated to it," Darren answered. "Just like we have one for cancer. The results are about the same: a whole lot of nothing." He looked over and met Steve's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." Steve shrugged off the apology. "I'm glad you're working on it."

"Bruce is, actually. He took over when he started living with us, and now he's running the entire medical research division of Stark Industries. He's really good with biological stuff. I'm more mechanical, engineering. You know."

"Yeah." They rounded the corner of the building, and Eleanore waved to them from the blanket, raising her eyebrows when she recognized Darren. "Did she know you were coming?"

"I texted her about an hour ago, but I bet her phone's in the car." Darren got happier as they approached. Steve felt a lightening of the weight on his chest as he watched the couple greet each other. Darren dropped the stuff on the ground as Elle rose and jumped at him, spinning her in the air with a laugh.

"I left my phone in the car," Eleanore said as soon as her feet hit the ground. She was smiling so much, Steve thought she was happier for Darren's surprise appearance.

"What else is new? Here, try this." Darren picked up the weapon and handed it to her. "Loki, want to test this?" He brought the silver box forward and opened it, showcasing a series of throwing knives and two slim handguns. "They take anything from a twenty-two round to a nine millimeter so you can reload from enemy weapons in the field. They work under water, they're dust-resistant, and they recognize your hands."

Loki picked up the knives first, spinning them around on his fingers before turning suddenly and slicing one through a branch twenty yards away. "Not unlike my own." He sent three more into the trunk of a tree and called them all back with magic.

"They're made to accept your energy signature," Darren explained, walking over and taking one, showing the grooves in the blade. He and Loki started discussing magic and theories, ways to make better blades and weapons.

Steve opened the black briefcase and found a couple bigger guns modeled after the ones Loki had gotten. There were also some new gloves to go with the uniform that had a flashlight and short knives sheathed along the forearms. Steve tested the flashlight, but left the blades alone.

Eleanore was swinging something through the taller grass at the treeline, knocking the seeds of their stems. The staff had come apart into two long asps, almost doubling the length of her arms. She stopped and looked back, holding one up, "These are great."

"They look great," Steve walked over and took the one she handed him, testing its weight and balance. There was something off about the handle. When he examined it, he found the end unscrewed to reveal a long, thin knife. He held it up to the sunlight. "Elle, try yours."

She did. "Lock picking kit, and some little card things."

"Those are to fry any electronic locks you may come across. They each work twice, so you can get through four doors." Darren came up on Elle's other side, pointing to the thin green chips. Loki wandered closer and looked over their shoulders. Steve handed him the knife and the other asp, and he examined them a moment before giving them back. Darren was still speaking, raising his voice to address all of them, "Dad designed some new equipment for the gym, which is being installed now. The ground floor is close-range weapons practice now, and the basement is still for sparring. Top floor's got rooms in case someone needs to stay over or hide."

"You bought the gym?" Steve asked.

"We already owned it. SHIELD used it for agents in the area, but they've just built a new one on their campus. Ours will be the DC Avengers facility, since like half of you live here." Darren shrugged, smiling. "Natasha and Clint are excited about it. They hate sharing with regular agents."

"That'll be nice," Elle agreed. "Thanks for the new stuff."

"Is the knife okay? Dad suggested garroting wire, in case you get in a tight spot." Darren held out his hand, so Steve gave him the blade and kept the asp.

"Ew, I don't want to garrote anyone." Eleanore took the knife and handled it, tensing up like she was going to fight an invisible enemy. "Not that stabbing someone is much better, but I like the knife."

"It's really sharp, so be careful. Did you see your knives, Steve?" Darren left her to test her new weapons and turned to the ones he hadn't introduced yet. "They can cut through ten feet of concrete or four feet of steel."

"I saw them," Steve retrieved his gloves and handed the asp off to Loki, who took it back to Eleanore. "Where'd you get this idea?"

"I went a little knife-happy," Darren explained, smiling as he removed one of the short-handled daggers. "But I thought you might need something other than a shield and guns, and you don't seem like a laser guy. But if you want one, you can totally have it. We're developing beams that can cut through ten feet of concrete and rebar, or four feet of solid steel."

"Maybe one for Elle's medical pack? In case we need to cut someone out of somewhere." Steve threw the dagger around in the complicated series of moves he'd learned from Jacques in the War. Held memories back by sheathing the knife again and trying on the gloves.

"You really okay?" Darren asked, almost whispering. He was more perceptive than Steve gave him credit for. Then again, Steve wasn't doing a good job of hiding his struggles.

"Just a bad day," He assured the younger man. "Let's see if the saddle works on Jet."

The dragon had been circling above them at varying heights, trying maneuvers on his own that looked like they'd shake Eleanore to death. When she waved at him, he glided to land in the middle of the clearing, allowing them to strap the saddle on his back. Loki stayed far away, watching the goings on.

"So Asgard doesn't have dragons." Steve knew it, but he didn't have much else to talk about with the demigod.

"No, and dragons are rarely seen even by those on their home world." Loki was observing with an almost hungry look in his eye. "I have never seen one in its true form up close before today."

"If you asked, Elle might take you for a ride," Steve suggested, earning a scornful glance. "Really. She took me up once."

"Somehow, I think the dragon would allow a Hel-spawned demon perch in its liver before it would let me ride." The dark-haired man shook his head, and gave a derisive grin.

"Never hurts to ask," Steve shrugged, watching as Jet took off to test the saddle on his own, making sure it wouldn't break apart before Eleanore tried it out. While he was in the air, Darren called Elle's new suit over and she tried it on, hooking the asps in two holsters at her hips. They were made to hold the metal at her side so it wouldn't swing out and hit anything when she turned. The suit was a little heavier-looking, with plates instead of scales running the length of Eleanore's back, torso, and legs. The scales remained on her arms for flexibility, and there was still no metallic clanking. The helmet looked the same, only a little bigger. Steve heard Darren mention something about an air filtration system so she could get through gas leaks and biological airborne pathogens, which were apparently a weapon now worse than mustard gas.

"How did the dragon come to be here, guarding a short-lived mortal?" Loki queried, quietly watching the sky.

"Elle tells the story better," Steve told him. "They're from Darren's home planet though. The one other than Earth."

"Vanaheim," Loki corrected him. Jet landed, saddle still intact, and Elle hopped on. "That boy's family is nearly as strange as mine was."

"Yeah?" Steve turned to look at him, waiting for more. Loki pressed his lips together and tensed up. "You don't have to talk about it. But you can."

"Just like you, with your sadness, hm?" The demigod fixed him with a piercing stare that chilled Steve to his bones. "You keep secrets, perhaps as much as I do."

"I don't know about that," Steve protested with a grin. "I just don't talk about my feelings much. Other than that, I'm an open book."

"If you say so," Loki returned to his skyward gaze, and Steve watched too. Jet was flying lower, sometimes nearly brushing the treetops with his feet. The saddle held together, shining in the sun, until they landed ten minutes later. Darren inspected it with satisfaction, and the dragon walked over to the building to finally feed.

"Ready to go?" Elle asked, coming up and stepping out of her dissembling suit. "Darren's coming to have supper with us. Indian sound okay?"

"Sounds good," Steve agreed, helping retrieve everything from where it was scattered on the ground. Loki even carried the blankets and cooler back to the car, where Eleanore shook them out and stowed them away in the trunk with her new suit and the weapons and the saddle. It almost didn't all fit.

"Loki, do you want to ride with Darren? Then you and Steve can both have leg room." Eleanore worded it like a suggestion, but no one could disagree with it. Loki didn't seem to mind, though, walking over and ducking into the low-lying Tesla.

Steve got in the front seat of the older car, and Jet stretched his dog form across the back. "Thanks for the leg room."

"I might need to look at a bigger car," Elle smiled at him and followed Darren onto the road. "Like a mid-size SUV or something."

"Or I could get a real car so you don't have to drive me around all the time," Steve frowned. "How much do cars cost now?"

"Used ones are quite a bit less than new, but you have to be careful to get a good deal. My car was about five thousand, and it's ten years old. It was in really good shape, though."

"Five thousand." Steve shook the number off, thinking it through. He had plenty of money, he'd recently found out. He wanted to donate most of it, since the back pay was for seventy years of lying in the ice. The interest, though, on his savings was still worth something. And he had a paycheck from SHIELD to look forward to, however much that would be. He was slowly figuring out how to budget in this new time when a week's worth of food costs would have lasted him several months in the forties. "I'll look around."

"Don't be afraid to haggle."

"I know, you've told me." He looked out the window, remembering the bus and subway and elevated train systems of New York. Those were still useful, but it seemed like more and more people wanted their own vehicles for things. It was certainly more convenient in an emergency.

"So I know Darren asked, but how are you feeling?" Eleanore stared straight ahead as they merged onto the interstate.

"It's just one of those days," Steve was honest with her from the get-go, remembering their confrontation that morning. "It'll pass."

"Yeah," Elle agreed. "Did spending the day out with us help or hinder that?"

"It was fine. Distractions are good." Distractions were _necessary_. Steve knew if he didn't have them, he'd be that much closer to the dark pit of despair that loomed on the edge of his consciousness. Sometimes he could forget about it when he was with other people.

"Good."

They rode in silence for a while, which Steve appreciated. The clouds were almost gone, only a few curving at the top of the sky. "What are those wispy ones called?"

"Cirrus." Elle leaned forward and looked out the windshield. "They're so high that they're made of ice, which is why they don't hold together the same way cumulus ones do."

"Have you ever flown that high?"

"No, there's not much air up there, and it's literally freezing. Tony even had to build a special suit to handle the extreme temperatures."

"How high do you go?"

"Not above thirteen or fourteen thousand feet. The winds get really fast, and we have to deal with up and downdrafts. We can go up to twenty-five thousand feet for short distances, like landing on the helicarrier, but we usually don't."

"Loki asked about how you knew Jet," Steve remembered. "I told him you'd tell the story."

"That makes sense. Thanks," she glanced at Jet through the rear view mirror. "How are your new guns?"

"They look neat. The gloves, too. They'll be useful." It was amazing how quickly the Starks could come up with these things and build them. But that was what they loved to do— experimenting with new technology, seeing what worked. The Avengers were lucky to have them. "What about you?" The thought suddenly occurred to him that Elle might be just as torn up about Peggy's behavior as he was. "How do you deal with… bad days?"

"I don't, sometimes. If I think a visit will rile Peggy up, I wait until a better day. But if I don't have any warning, like today, I just deal with it. Compartmentalize and shrug it off. She didn't really mean it, it was the disease talking."

"Guess I'm just not used to it," Steve looked out the window, processing and seeing if he could do the same. It worked, a little, when he remembered how Peggy used to be, and that everyone had times when they weren't at their best. Her words at the end still rankled, though.

"Different people react differently to the same stimuli," Elle was heading into information mode.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Like… say we each play a game of chess with Darren. He likes to win, and he always beats me. I like to win, and I always lose to him. You might beat him, and you know it. Now, he does this smug face whenever he takes one of my pieces, and I just get pissed off and then we start laughing, and I never think that strategically. You'd probably take it as a challenge, and try that much harder to beat him. Different people, same stimulus."

"What theory is that from?" Steve watched as Darren's car merged into the rightmost lane.

Eleanore peered around, checking for cars, before following him. "It's an observation, but it could depend on your conflict and attachment styles, and any number of other things. I cited our relationships with Darren, mostly, because he knows how to annoy me, but he doesn't know you that well yet." As she spoke, her fingers gestured on the steering wheel, sometimes leaving only her open palms to guide the car.

Steve wondered whether he should let her focus on driving. Decided it was probably fine. "So how's this not psychology?"

"It's a little bit of everything, that's why I like it. Psychology, sociology, even anthropology, if you get into the study of rhetorical development dating back thousands of years. Before Loki even came here," she smirked over at him, and he grinned back.

They turned down a curving exit that was near a shopping center in DC that was only a mile or so away from the apartment. Eleanore and Darren parked in the back of the large lot and directed Steve and Loki to a place called Little India.

"Hello!" the host, whose name tag read _Basant_ , greeted them familiarly, asking how the couple had been. Steve and Loki were introduced as friends, and received an enthusiastic welcome. They were led across the black and white checkered tiles to the back of the restaurant to a four-seated table with a vase of red artificial flowers and a light hanging above it. The walls were deep red, and the whole place was dark and restful, Indian music playing softly over the speakers in the ceiling. It was a right at the beginning of the dinner rush, so only a few other tables were taken.

Everyone ordered water to drink, and then they were told to help themselves. Eleanore and Darren led the way again to a room just off the kitchen, where a buffet was laid out.

Everything was labeled, but Steve didn't know where to start. He followed Darren's example, getting a plate full of rice before pausing to choose what sort of dish should go on top of it. There was chicken curry, which looked different from that served on the helicarrier. Tandoori chicken, chicken tikka masala, vegetable korma. Elle loaded up on chicken makhani, so Steve tried it too, heading back to the table. Darren followed, and only set his plate down before heading back and returning with a large plate full of flat bread called naan.

"This is to share," Darren told him. Elle took a piece and started scooping the rice and sauce and meat onto it before taking a bite. Darren just scooped the food up with the bread and ate it that way.

Steve tried it both ways, and ended up just eating the bread separately and having the entree with his fork and spoon. Loki, sitting next to Steve and across from Darren, copied Elle's method, eating something that looked like carrots and peas and cauliflower in orange sauce. The food was mild and delicious. Steve went back for three plates before he slowed down, getting something different every time. His favorite was the curry because it was so simple. Darren and Eleanore showed them various toppings and side dishes that were on the salad bar, including mango chutney and a red hot sauce that really burned.

"But it has such good flavor!" Darren protested as Elle laughed and Steve took a few gulps of water. "Loki, you want to try it?"

"No, I will decline." Loki was on his fifth plate, apparently enjoying Steve's pain as much as the food.

"I don't eat it, either." Elle watched as Darren dumped the little container of sauce onto his curry and stirred it in. "I can't taste anything past the burning."

"Burns on the way out, too," Darren said around a mouthful of naan.

Steve actually laughed at that unexpected information, his chuckle joining Eleanore's snickering as she tried unsuccessfully relay disgust. Loki rolled his eyes, but he still looked amused.

After that, conversation turned to vehicles, specifically one Darren was designing with an arc reactor power source. Stark Industries was working with one of the leading electric car manufacturers to create sustainable, efficient transportation that was affordable for everyone. Darren mentioned models of the Tesseract being used, and Loki got interested, leaning forward and examining the plans, commenting and pointing out flaws. He and Darren got into a deep discussion, comparing their differing knowledge of mechanics, and how magic and energy played into that.

Steve listened for a while, but he couldn't make sense of most of it. Elle started telling him about the different ingredients commonly used in Indian food, and the practices that went into eating it. Naan was often used in place of a utensil, and the dominant religion, Hinduism, frowned upon eating beef. There was no beef on the menu at the restaurant, which was strange for America. Steve told her about eating horse and goat in Europe. He hadn't known what he was eating until someone pointed out the lack of horses. It actually tasted pretty good. Goat was a delicacy, and once Steve had gotten lamb when he'd helped liberate a village and they threw together a celebration when the army camped there.

Darren and Loki ended up eating the most, seven plates each, not including naan. Steve had five plates, and Eleanore had three, even though Basant and his wife Jaya pushed more on her. Apparently she and Darren were frequent customers and good tippers. They both asked after the restaurant owners' family as well, sounding very familiar.

At least, that's what Steve assumed until Jaya handed Eleanore a to-go box as they were walking out and said, "For your mother."

"Thank you," Elle smiled and took the container, waving goodbye to Basant as Darren paid at the counter. The younger Stark had insisted on covering the bill, and Steve hadn't put up a fight, planning on getting the next one.

Loki was still arguing something about the spatial relationship between energy and its user when they stopped at the cars.

"Look, why don't you come to the Tower sometime?" Darren held up his hands, grinning excitedly like a kid who wants a friend to sleep over. "We can go through the lab, look at the specs in detail."

"I certainly would, if I have permission," Loki gave Eleanore a pointed glare, which she ignored.

"Sure, if you take me along. Steve, too, if he wants to come. When will Pepper be there, so we can thank her for the clothes?"

"She's home for the week, but she'll be gone for two weeks after that." Darren came around and hugged Eleanore close, kissing her on the forehead. "See you later. I'll text you. Love you."

"Love you too. Have Jarvis drive safely." Elle watched him get into the car before turning and noticing Steve's confused expression. "The car drives itself. Jarvis gives it directions. Darren just sits back and does math and designing."

"The future is now," Steve quoted something he'd seen on television earlier that week. He glanced at Loki and grinned, "Shotgun."

"I will fight you for it," Loki offered, settling into a sparring pose.

"No fighting. Those are the rules — you call shotgun, you get shotgun. You can call it next time." Eleanore was holding back giggles as Steve settled in the car next to her. "Now buckle up, kids."

"The dragon is blocking the latch," Loki complained, sending her into real gales of laughter. Steve started chuckling again because it _was_ funny, and the laughter was infectious. "I hardly see any humor in my situation." Loki glowered at them, but that just made things more amusing because he looked like a pouting, tall child.

"Jet," Elle managed to gasp. The dragon-dog moved over with a groan, and she turned the car on, still giggling. Steve heard her mutter, "Never asked to be a mom. Even the damn cat gives me attitude." He smiled, turning to look out the passenger window so Loki wouldn't see.

The drive back was quiet. They'd taken a long time eating, so it was around eight when they pulled into the driveway. The sky was still bright, the sun only beginning to set. They trooped up the stairs, Jet first, Loki last. Steve spent a moment of hesitation at his door, not wanting to walk into the silent darkness just yet.

"Come over for a while," Elle read his mind, opening her door and letting the demigod and dragon inside.

"Sure," Steve said, trying to make it sounds like ' _thanks_ '. "I'll just get my sketchbook. Be right there."

"Okay, lock the door when you come in." Elle ducked inside, leaving the hallway deserted.

Steve walked quickly through his apartment to pick up his drawing supplies, then exited and locked his door. He walked into Eleanore's place and slid the deadbolt into place as she'd asked.

"She reminds me far too much of you," Loki was saying, raising an eyebrow in some sort of challenge.

"Who, Lydia?" Steve asked, walking over to his accustomed position on the couch.

"Yes." Loki confirmed. He turned his attention back to Eleanore, "I can see where you get your insufferable need to order people around."

"I think you mean my 'leadership skills,'" Elle was in a humorous mood, laughing at Loki's dark expression. "And my boundless confidence."

" _Over_ confidence." She laughed again as Loki corrected her.

Steve shook his head and opened his sketchbook, flipping to the next blank page. He was already almost halfway through this one. Luckily, there was a lot of space on his bookshelves. He started on an image of a wren sitting on a fallen branch that had stuck in his mind. The lines came together quickly as Eleanore and Loki quieted down and settled into their own books. Loki was working on one of the texts that had been delivered, reading up on the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, which had come before he was born. Elle was flying through a fictional book called _The Fault in Our Stars_. Jet was asleep on the other end of the couch, Charlie curled on top of him in a ball of striped fur.

The bird was done, and the living room lamp had been turned on for more light when Elle sat up and dropped her book. "There's still stuff in the car."

"Mmm, so there is," Loki conceded sarcastically.

"I'll help you bring it up." Steve rose and followed her down the stairs to the car, where she stacked the saddle, the staff weapon, and his briefcase of guns and gloves into his arms. She took her compacted suit, Loki's silver box, and the bag of stuff Darren had brought for him. Steve caught a glimpse of a laptop as she adjusted the straps. "Should we let him have access to the Internet?" he asked, hoping Loki couldn't somehow hear them.

"Darren put an integrated tracker in this thing, and on our router," Eleanore assured him. "The cell phone, too. We want him to be feel like he has a little freedom."

"If you say so." Steve was willing to trust her judgment. He just wished he didn't also have to trust Loki.

Elle got the doors for him, and he dumped the stuff in the middle of her living room floor. They sorted through everything, placing Steve's items by the door for him to take to his apartment, putting the saddle under her bed, her suit and weapons right next to it. Loki took his silver box into his room, then sat back down and picked up his book again.

"Here," Elle threw something at the demigod, and he caught it without looking. It was the cell phone, one of the latest Stark ones Steve had seen advertised.

"So I can keep in closer contact with you?" Loki snarked, fiddling with the buttons. The phone turned on to display his name and ID picture, and then opened to reveal a short list of contacts that included the Avengers and Maria Hill.

"Just in case," Elle said, pulling the laptop out as well. It was larger than hers, and thinner. "You can also use it to look things up, if you have questions. Or this." She powered up the computer and handed it over as well. Loki started clicking immediately, engrossed. Steve didn't like the dangerous light in his eyes, but he figured Jarvis or Darren or Tony would be monitoring the activity on the machine.

Eleanore got up and put a couple small boxes in the cupboard above the stove. They were both herbal tea, one called Bengal Spice, and the other a mix of samples. When she was done, she put the cloth bag by the door with Steve's things. "You can have that one. Start your own collection."

"Thanks," Steve checked his watch and realized it was ten o'clock. He actually felt tired. _Nightmares and bad days will do that._ "I'll head out. See you at six?"

"Ugh. Yes." Elle smiled at him, picking Charlie up and hugging him. "Have a good night."

"You too." Steve knew he probably wouldn't. Maybe sleep was in his future, but he doubted it would involve anything but more nightmares. Still, he'd try. He needed to be ready in case he was needed.

Since he was already tired, he got ready for bed right away and laid down. His eyes closed willingly, and memories were held at bay as he slipped into a light slumber without any dreams to begin with. His body relaxed, and he completely lost consciousness as the relief of rest swept over him.

He was awake three hours later, gasping, trying to make sense of where he was. _My apartment. DC. Calm down or Elle will sense you._ He wiped a hand weakly over his face, wiping off a sheen of cold sweat, and sat up. The memories wouldn't stay back any longer, storming to the forefront of his vision, playing out before his eyes.

Sighing, Steve laid back on the bed, letting his feet dangle to touch the floor. He went through each moment of the day before their visit. Peggy yelled at him all over again, Bucky fell from the train, screaming. Bombs flashed and an audience cheered. Pretty girls asked for his autograph. Eleanore and Jet swooped over Howard's science show. Tony tried to pick a fight. Bruce's eyes turned a painful shade of green. Dum Dum peppered a hillside with a machine gun.

A knock on his door came in the middle of a war flashback, pulling him back into darkened reality. He rose, wondering if it was Eleanore, and why she didn't just use her key like the night before. He hadn't been that emotional, so she shouldn't be worried. Was something wrong? He looked out of the door's peephole and found an unfamiliar SHIELD agent brandishing a tablet.

"Mission, Captain." She stepped back when he opened the door and nodded politely. "I'll wait here while you get ready."

"Sure," Steve said. "Just a minute." After a quick trip to the bathroom and a change of clothes, he was Captain America, ready to face whatever needed to be done.

"The car's waiting downstairs," the agent said, handing him the tablet. Steve turned it on and found information about a terrorist cell that was developing in Turkey. They were an offshoot, not affiliated with any of the big groups. Currently working with biologics and explosives, which was a horrifying combination. Steve learned the term _dirty bomb_ as he scrolled through the cell's information. Lots of armed men, lots of weapons, well-organized with ties to powerful radicals. Sources confirmed plans for an attack the following day, which was why Steve was being sent in right away and alone. All he had to do was take out their leaders and disable the vehicles they had there, and the citizens would be safe. If he could do it quietly, they'd avoid a panic.

The quinjet they put him on was sleeker and more compact than any of the other ones he'd seen. _New design. Faster._ It also flew itself, meaning he was the only one on the flight. There were bigger engines on the back, which opened up once they reached cruising altitude. Steve wandered around the cabin and found a duffel bag with _Rogers_ written on its luggage tag. He opened it and found a new, darker suit, all navy blue and muted silver with a harder helmet. The gloves were the same design Darren had given him that afternoon. As Steve put them on, he found a note written by two different hands.

" _Dear Captain Sparkles,_

 _Steve,_

 _Thought you could use something_ _less spangly_ _more covert. Make sure you check the pockets. Channel 13._ _Keep the helmet on so you_ _don't get shot at all._

 _\- Darren and Tony"_

Steve almost smiled at the two different personalities on the paper in front of him. He folded the note up and checked his pockets, finding a comlink and a compact first-aid kit, along with several clips for his new guns, an air filtration mask, and a Stark Industries mini flashlight that could clip to his shoulder. He put the com on and set it to channel 13.

" _Steve?"_ Darren's voice asked, sounding like he'd just woken up.

"Yeah," Steve was confused. "Why am I connected to you?"

" _Hey, Star Spangled Man,"_ Tony rang through, truly awake.

" _Dad, why'd you have to wake me up with this?"_ Darren liked sleep, unlike his father. Elle said he only pulled all-nighters when something had a deadline.

" _Go back to sleep if you can't appreciate a good hack,"_ Tony chided. _"Jarvis, get him off this line."_

"Tony, you don't need to hack SHIELD every chance you get." Steve heaved a sigh and looked heavenward, as though God could help him with the forty-five year-old man child.

" _You don't need to be such a stickler, either. Have a little fun."_ Tony sounded like he was working on something. _"Anyway, I didn't know you'd be using this suit so soon. Going to Turkey, huh? What's the play?"_

"I'm not going to tell you that," Steve leaned his arms on his legs and ran a hand over his face. "It's four in the morning. Go to sleep."

" _Fine, fine. Everyone's a critic. Just let me know if that suit, you know, saves your life."_

"I will."

The line went dead and Steve shook his head, glad it was over. He didn't enjoy solo missions, but this one looked like it would be no problem. He hoped it wouldn't be, at any rate, because he didn't have backup to pull him out if things got dicey. He wished he'd left a note on his apartment door so Elle wouldn't worry when he didn't answer for their exercise appointment. He was sure to get an earful either way when he got back. He wouldn't have let any other member of the team go on their own. Captain America was a conscious hypocrite.

The flight was only four hours. He ate a couple protein bars and drank a lot of water. Used the bathroom as much as possible because that was a distraction he didn't need during battle. Watched the ocean and land go by out the windshield far below. At its end, he reviewed the information, points of interest, where the plane would pick him up. His target was a small, five story apartment building that was abandoned and set out in the middle of a deserted countryside. It had an outbuilding, where the terrorists were storing the vehicles they'd use to launch their weapons. The bombs were manufactured inside the apartment complex and attached to the random junkers in the garage. Driven to heavily populated areas and set off as massive, destructive experiments.

The quinjet went into silent, invisible mode about twenty feet above the apartment's roof. Steve steeled himself. Hooked his helmet, checked his guns, and jumped, landing with a roll and taking out the two lookouts before they could utter a word. There was yelling from the ground below, and then bullets started hitting the railings around the rooftop. He'd been spotted.

Steve wasted no time, kicking open the roof's door and dashing down the stairwell. He met a clog of men, all shooting up at him. He crouched behind his shield and threw a grenade, which quickly thinned the herd. The last few fell to his bullets, and he jumped over them and made it to the third floor landing. That was when the door beside him and the two below opened, admitting more people than Steve had thought the building could hold. The ones on his level were dispatched without much problem, but he felt something small and barbed hit his neck from behind. A moment later, his arms were having trouble moving, and his legs were sluggish. Another one hit, making the problem worse.

He tried to shake it off, finishing the guys in front of him and turning back to find whoever had darted him. There were five men with strange guns, two more with syringes in their hands. The ones with guns opened rapid fire, bouncing slow, needled bullets off Steve's shield, and the other two stayed behind, waiting.

Steve knew he was cornered. He heard footsteps behind him, and decided they were his best bet. He jumped back through the stairwell door that was propped open by bodies and ran down a narrow hallway. Right into a group of eight guys with the same equipment as the other seven. Steve froze, then launched through a thin wall and into a former apartment that was now a bomb factory. The windows were covered with black garbage bags. He could take that fall. He backed a step and took a deep breath.

Two more darts bit into his neck. The reaction was immediate this time, making him fall to his knees. He stumbled back up, only get a punch in the jaw from one of the bigger goons. Steve's arms wouldn't work anymore, and his legs were barely within his perception. A syringe to the neck, and he was a big, loose ball of useless muscles. His first, and likely last, solo modern mission had gone to shit within ten minutes. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Steve cursed himself for not requesting backup in the first place. How had he been seen so quickly? Were they waiting for him? Did they have a mole in SHIELD? Or had he been sent here as a test, and failed? Tony had called him the Star Spangled Man, but he hadn't had much of a plan. Hadn't prepared enough for the modern world. Hadn't learned what Eleanore and Darren were trying to teach him, hadn't researched _what_ weapons he might meet on this mission. Everything had gone wrong, and it was completely his fault.

Steve watched more boots approaching and waited for the death blow. It never came. The men were talking loudly. One ripped his shield off his arm, his helmet off his head. Two sets of arms pulled him up, neck rolling, to face a tall guy with a lot of stubble. Steve couldn't hold his head up, so they used his hair as a handle and he finally faced his captor.

"Captain America," the man said. "SHIELD is very generous with their offering." He turned to his men and ordered something in a language Steve had never heard before.

Apparently the order was, _"Drag this asshole down the stairs and drop him as much as you can."_ By the time they reached a basement room with no windows and a lot of chains, Steve had gotten several knots knocked into his head from the metal stairs and railings. They even ran him into the door frame. Steve couldn't avoid it, couldn't even move his mouth to say 'ow'. He settled on silence, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of a groan.

The men had a hard time getting his suit off. It was kind of amusing, in a disturbing way. They tried cutting it, but that didn't work. The buckles and latches were complicated, so they ended up hanging Steve from the ceiling and undoing everything piece by piece. He couldn't move a muscle, and they injected him with more drugs every fifteen minutes or so. They were smart.

When they'd finally stripped him to his civilian clothes — a white t-shirt and black close-fitting sweats — the guy in charge was back, still brandishing Steve's shield.

"You are to be a symbol for your country," he told Steve happily. "Their American hero, falling to a simple group of nobodies. It will not be pleasant, I'm afraid. Still, you will serve a greater purpose than running around with your glorified… what is the word?"

"Frisbee," said one of the henchmen behind Steve.

"Frisbee, thank you." The leader nodded to the other man. "You may take the first knife."

Getting stabbed wasn't as bad as being shot. Steve got to compare the sensations side by side, and the bullets were far worse. It was the exit wounds. A knife cut sealed itself up pretty well, even when they twisted it around, but a bullet tore chunks of bone and muscle as it searched for a way out of his body. They started with his feet, moved up his legs, thankfully left his kneecaps intact. When he still didn't talk, they started using larger guns, sending rounds through muscles in his arms. Finally, they went through his abdomen, and Steve could feel each organ as it ruptured. _There goes the large intestine. Liver. Kidney._ It was getting hard to see because of the blood loss, but some of the bullets managed to stay inside, causing swelling under his skin.

The terrorists were talking, and Steve could tell they were arguing about whether to kill him or not. If they did, he hoped they'd do it quickly. The pain was pretty bad. Every heartbeat was agony that gradually dimmed as more and more blood dripped to the floor. All he could think about, through the whole thing, was how disappointed Peggy would be if she could understand what he'd done. How he was going to end. Bucky would roll his eyes and call him a punk. Erskine, too, wouldn't want his success to die in this hole, shot up with some kind of paralysis drug. And he hadn't stopped the bombings at all, instead giving these terrorists all his weapons and himself to use against people. He'd disappointed everyone who ever believed in him by being cocky.

Injections followed stabbings and shootings. Punches followed injections. The biggest guys got four or five hits in apiece, aiming for his face and his abdomen. One got a good swing in with a crowbar and cracked Steve's pelvis. He watched it all because his head was hanging down like a deflated balloon. He couldn't hear individual words anymore because his head was muddled. Orders were barks, taunts were tones, congratulations were slaps on the back.

There was a noise from the next room. A roar, it sounded like. Then a flash of green light blew the door off its hinges, and a suit-clad Eleanore ran in, breaking the arms and legs of the men as they reached for their guns. Steve couldn't feel much remorse over that, since they were breaking him. He hoped it wasn't just her and Jet here to watch him die. He didn't think she could heal him. Not when things were this bad.

"Steve. Oh my god." She slid to a stop in front of him and pulled a long black device from a pocket on her pack. It folded back into a blue flame, which she aimed above his hands and zapped the chain apart with. So they'd equipped her with a laser, after all. She caught him, barely, as he fell, limbs useless. "Loki!"

When he hit the floor, Steve blacked out for a moment. When his vision returned, Loki was there looking wild-eyed and savage, hands glowing green, armor spattered with blood. He slung Steve's arm over his shoulders without a word and picked him up effortlessly, one hand holding onto Steve's middle. His feet dragged over the rough floor as he was carried at a run up through the smoke of the stairwell. Jet was smashing running men with his claws in the open yard outside, his tail whipping into the garage and trashing the vehicles inside. Clint was… _Clint?_ Yes, Clint was shooting arrows up to the glassless windows, where men fell to the ground with splattering noises. It was a bloodbath. Eleanore, who was carrying his shield, yelled something with a hand to her ear. They fell back to the main entrance, Jet acting as a barricade against the bullets. A quinjet, one of the larger ones, was waiting for them to board.

Loki laid him on the floor, and Elle knelt beside him, her suit folding itself behind her. "Steve? Can you talk? What did they give you?"

He tried so hard to speak, but his lips wouldn't even move. He just stared at her worried brown eyes until she gave up on that line of questioning.

"Fine. Clint, take off. Loki, come here." Jet's dog form brushed by like a shadow, settling somewhere behind Steve's head. "Hold him down. I have to get that poison out first thing."

Loki's gaze held his as hands pressed down on Steve's shoulders. The warm tingling of Elle's healing spread suddenly like fire through his cold veins, zapping his nerves to respond. Sweat dripped from every pore on his body. He jolted involuntarily a few times, choking back swear words and moans. The more the toxin faded, the worse the wounds felt. Loki's hands held him still.

"Rip his shirt off," was the next order. It was followed more gently than Steve had expected, warm fingers ripping each sleeve up to the collar, then down the middle until the material fell away limp and blood soaked.

Steve raised his head through the sluggish haze of his vision to get a look at himself. What he found was mostly covered in red. Bruises were also present and accounted for. He could remember each hit, clubbing, slap. There was a part of the crowbar bruise in sharp relief against his unusually pale abdomen.

"No moving!" Elle laid his head back with a bared palm. "Loki, hold him again. Steve, you can't move, okay? I have to get those bullets out."

"It's fine," Steve whispered, finding a pool of blood in his mouth. That was disgusting. He hated the taste.

"Shit," Eleanore's fingers swiped inside his lips, removing a lot of the obstruction and freeing up his airway. "Okay. Loki, make sure he can still breathe. Do what I just did if you have to."

"You'd best commence the real healing, or we will be working over a corpse." Loki's voice was cold, tense. His hands pressed harder on Steve's shoulders.

Eleanore didn't reply, but Steve felt the metal twisting piece by piece, ripping back through the partially-healed entrance wounds. He was so weak, Loki didn't really need to hold him down. Tears started blurring his vision, and he frustratedly blinked them away, only to feel them drip cool tracks down the sides of his head. There were five fragmented shells, and they came out one at a time. Steve centered on Loki's eyes without realizing it, fixating on the blue-greenness with jaw-locking determination because he had to _lie still_.

"That's all of them." Eleanore took more blood out of Steve's mouth, then pressed both hands to the mess that was his abdomen. "Okay, here we go."

The sweet relief from pain started with the exit wounds on his back, and slowly worked their way through to the front. Steve could feel his own strength being used as his muscles and organs knitted back together in sync. He was so tired. Loki looked tired, too. Or just bored? Steve turned to use Elle as a reference. She was biting her lip, hands bloodied up to the elbow, red swiped across her cheek and into her tousled, braided hair, illuminated by the silver-white light of her power. Her eyes were staring blankly at his chest, where the healing was coming to a close.

Now only his legs burned like fire.

"Can you get his pants?" Steve felt mildly embarrassed as he felt his jeans being slid down. Thankfully, they left his underwear. No wounds there, although they'd come damn close. The slashes and bruises healed quickly, Steve's eyelids growing heavier with each progression. When his pelvis popped back into place, he strained and hissed without meaning to. Loki was there again in a second, holding him down. When Elle sat back, he could barely see straight. "Let's get him on a gurney."

Steve was lifted again, barely conscious, as he watched a white and silver bed lock into the floor where he'd just been lying. Cool water gathered and drew down his body before he was laid flat on a blessedly soft pillow and covered with a thin, cottony blanket. He felt cold, still, but he didn't want to make a fuss about it. There was a ringing sound somewhere, but he couldn't see past a strange descending darkness until a hand carded through his hair. Then he opened his eyes and saw rather than heard Eleanore speaking sharply to someone above him. She was cursing, that much was certain. Steve was glad he couldn't make out her words through the hazy pulsing in his mind. She looked worn out, taking huge gulps of water from a large bottle, blood splotched all over her yellow shirt and gray leggings. Her eyes shot fire as she got angrier and shouted something at whoever was making her mad. It wasn't him, he was pretty sure. Not Loki, either, because the demigod was beside him, offering another blanket with a soft voice. That calmed Elle down a little as she tucked the ends around Steve's arms and feet distractedly. He was much warmer that way.

"Thanks," he managed to mutter, feeling so much more comfortable as the cold edged away.

"… sleep. We'll…you…" Elle patted his shoulder and left her hand there, a warm reassurance beside her garbled words. Steve didn't know whether he'd be able to sleep on a plane. He watched the ceiling as the lights were dimmed. Watched Elle's lips move as she spoke to Loki in soft tones. Saw the lights on the ceiling dim. Found his own eyelashes when he unfocused his eyes for long enough. Elle's hand moved to his forehead, and she spoke again. Steve closed his eyes and knew nothing more.

 **QUICK A/N: Here's a new chapter with a little action and a few mistakes! Enjoy!**

Vendetta: **Thank you for your kind review! Loki does tend to underestimate mere mortals, doesn't he? But Lydia is fighting cancer, so a moody Asgardian just isn't that scary. :)**

Everyone else: **Have a great weekend!**

~ **PettyWhiteRose**


	18. Chapter 18: L Coming to Terms

After the Captain was asleep, Loki went into the bathroom to wash the blood from his hands and face. He magically cleaned his armor and changed into normal Asgardian clothing. He frowned at his reflection, recalling the inexplicable trust in Rogers' red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes as Eleanore had pulled shard after shard from his punctured body. Loki had been hurt before, but never so close to death. If he was about to die, he wouldn't want his last memories to be of his enemy's face. Then again, the ill-advised man had probably thought Loki's actions were indicative of some kind of _goodness_ or _courage_ , or any other redeemable quality that would open the way for the friendship he offered.

This did _not_ make them friends. He had to protect these shortsighted mortals, and the fact that the stupid man had run off alone in the first place had only made Loki's job more difficult. He could not transport himself somewhere he'd never been, and he could not take Eleanore that far anyway if he expected her to be in working order to heal Rogers. The entire situation was ludicrous. Very avoidable, and yet, here they were.

The alarm Loki had set for himself had woken him around the same time Eleanore's panicking tones had started coming through his bedroom door. Loki had risen and dressed himself casually, finding her in the main room with her phone to her ear. Tony Stark was on the other end, relaying information about something called a 'terrorist cell' in a country called Turkey. Apparently the Captain had been sent on a mission to stop them, and he'd gone alone without even a pilot for his plane.

"How soon can you get a jet here?" Eleanore had asked, looking through Loki with distant determination. The answer was one hour, which she then spent dashing around the apartment, putting on her suit, feeding the cat more than it could eat in a week, practicing with her new weapons, packing and re-packing her medical bag. "By the time we get there, he'll have been there for hours."

"Three hours," Loki concurred, having listened to Stark's calculations. He was reading his book, having packed his new knives and guns into his magical storage area the night before. The billionaire was not joining them, nor was his son who was still apparently asleep. SHIELD had wanted to keep this operation secret, and Jet alone would draw enough attention without the metal suits blasting everything to pieces. In fact, explosions were to be avoided. The Captain was on a faster vessel that was equipped for speed and stealth. It was under radio silence to prevent any countries from noticing as it flew over. Loki and Eleanore would be taking a plane that was fully stocked with medical supplies, with room for working on an injured person. Radio silence was also advised.

The plane was piloted by Agent Barton himself. Loki had boarded silently, getting plenty of enjoyment from the man's glare alone.

"I'm here for Cap," he'd told Eleanore when she voiced her confusion. "I'm the only one besides Nat trained in covert ops. Just follow my lead."

Eleanore had glanced back at Loki, but he made busy buckling himself into one of the more comfortable-looking seats. Then she went and sat in the pilot's area, and she and Barton had a friendly conversation edged with tension. Loki knew they both had family in the same general area of this country, but they did not mention it. After a while, Eleanore came back out and started rehearsing medical techniques, pulling a rolling bed out of its storage area, showing Loki where all the more basic supplies were kept. Blankets, bandages, something called a suture kit, disinfectant. She instructed him on the essential elements of mortal field medicine, which were very similar to those for Asgardian princes going on adventures. Loki had never needed to treat anything worse than a broken wrist before, so he still listened. The messages were simple: keep the heart pumping, the airways clear. Stop bleeding wherever possible, and check for broken bones, especially the spine, before lifting the injured person. Leave internal injuries to Eleanore.

After three and a half hours of flight Eleanore had settled down, taking off her suit and sitting on the bench across from Loki. She petted the dragon-dog as he laid his head on her lap in an uncharacteristic display of affection. Barton stayed at the front of the plane, except for a quick trip to the bathroom. He avoided looking at Loki at all costs.

The plane had begun shaking when they were reportedly two hours away. Eleanore had stumbled to the front, yelled a question over the chattering metal sounds, and returned to her seat with a tragic expression. Loki heard everything: the Captain had missed his return flight, and had not checked in. SHIELD, who'd sent a message at the beginning of their trip expressly not condoning the flight now wanted them to get there as quickly as possible, which meant pushing the plane to its limits and hoping it stayed together. Barton had turned off communications and rerouted all power to the engines. The lights had dimmed, then gone out entirely, so visibility was limited to what was covered by the sun rising through the front windows.

Loki threaded magic through the craft so he'd have some warning before it blew apart. It was still holding together relatively well when Barton called them all forward and started outlining a plan of attack. A holographic image showed the buildings where Rogers might be held. Barton would remain outside, shooting anyone who tried to escape and clearing the top floors of shooters with his trick arrows. Jet would search the vehicle storage, with permission to destroy it without fire if the Captain was not there. Loki and Eleanore would transport into the roof of the inhabited building, searching each room down to the basement. Eleanore's powers would detect him if he was conscious, but she couldn't locate him exactly. If Rogers proved to be nowhere on the plot of land, then Barton would lead their investigation until they found him.

Eleanore had put her suit on and shouldered her medical pack. Loki had also arrayed himself in both armor and deflecting spells that would keep bullets from tearing through his only set of warrior apparel. He put a few of the spells on Eleanore as well, so he wouldn't have to worry about her as they ran through the building. Barton, he thought, would not appreciate any interference from him.

They landed amid a hail of gunfire, and Jet exited first, barreling through the men on the ground, gliding over the building and knocking some off the roof. Loki took Eleanore up there, finding nothing but flat gravel and an open door that led to a small stairwell. Loki sent knives into the men who met them on the stairs, then pulled out his guns and tried them. They worked well enough. He did not bother with finesse, killing whoever confronted him and guarding doors as Eleanore searched each room.

They found nothing but experiments and explosives on all the floors. Eleanore reported someone who might be the Captain below them as they descended. Always below, even on the ground floor. Loki searched with a burst of energy and found a well-hidden trap door that led into a dungeon that had not been on the known floor plan. Eleanore called it a basement, but it was a dungeon, complete with guards and restraints and cells.

The guards were quickly dispatched with thrown knives and magic. The first couple of doors they opened contained nothing but more chains and a small laboratory. Loki destroyed it carefully, containing the air within the room in case of poison. Finally, he blasted the last door off its hinges out of frustration and Eleanore dashed inside. More men were coming down the stairs, so Loki stayed to deal with them until he heard her call his name.

There was so much blood, all over the floor, covering Rogers' body and dyeing his white shirt dark red. The man was limp, and Loki thought he was dead at first. Then he found open, searching blue eyes in that mess of a face, and he realized that Captain America was paralyzed on top of his other injuries. There was nothing they could do for him immediately, so Loki slung Rogers' arm over his shoulders and carried him into the daylight. The wounds only looked worse as they were illuminated, and the Captain's head lolled about so much that Loki was constantly sure he was just on the verge of dying.

The healing was primitive and horrific. Once Eleanore had removed the paralysis poison, Rogers seemed to be in even more pain. Loki had no trouble holding him down, he was so weak, but he did have trouble holding back a gut reaction to the sound of ripping flesh and choking. He almost lost it when Eleanore pulled a large blood clot from the wounded man's mouth and casually wiped it on her leggings. Loki had killed before, but he was efficient about it. None of the corpses he left behind ever had much more than a blade mark, much less a bruise. Rogers was almost unrecognizable, only his blue eyes staring out of a swollen face covered in blood.

The bullets ripped from his skin, creating worse wounds and splattering Eleanore's clothing with blood. Tears started dripping from the Captain's eyes, which held onto Loki's with icy intensity, freezing him in place. He could see varying degrees of relief as the man's body healed up bit by bit until the blood on his torso was old and drying, not dripping new. His legs followed, and Loki felt the grinding of a broken bone as he tried to remove the blood-soaked black pants. He knelt there as Eleanore laid a hand on Rogers' hip, and he watched as the welt reduced and disappeared, the hip bone reformed and slid back into place.

Rogers let out a gasp at that, his muscles contracting, sending more blood streaming from his leg wounds. Loki moved back around to hold his shoulders again, watching this time as Eleanore's magic closed the slashes and stabs more quickly than a healing stone. There was no scarring, nothing but the blood to indicate there had been an injury at all. Some of the bruises were left, Loki assumed, to save Eleanore some energy. They got Rogers onto the rolling bed called a gurney, and she washed his body in one motion. Fixed the swelling on his face in a moment.

A call came through on the screen that sat in the ceiling of the cabin. It was an unfamiliar SHIELD dispatcher, who claimed responsibility for the entire mission. Loki almost said something sarcastic, but Eleanore's rage was quicker. She verbally ripped the other woman apart, transforming into a whole new person made of pure anger. She berated the sheer audacity of sending a man recently awakened in modern times into a mission without anyone to watch his back, without full information about the risks. Was SHIELD _trying_ to kill him? The agent would be demoted, if not fired. Sent somewhere she could not hurt anyone with stupid mission orders ever again.

When she did not seem to be slowing down, Loki retrieved another blanket and offered it to her, at which point the agent abruptly ended the transmission. Loki smiled at his reflection as he recalled the quick transition from angry Valkyrie to concerned friend. So she _could_ be roused annoyance and rage, and now he knew of one way to do it.

He sighed, coming fully back to the present, drying his hands and exiting the tiny bathroom. Barton was just walking through the pilot's area doorway. He paused when he met Loki's eyes, then drew himself up and continued, examining the sleeping Captain. Eleanore was also asleep, curled on a bench with Jet as a pillow. She'd cleaned the blood off the floor with her control of water, then disinfected it until there was no trace of it left. The bloody material was in a plastic bag by the hatch.

"She does good work," Barton sounded impressed.

"She has a gift," Loki agreed, moving to sit out of the man's way in an empty seat at Eleanore's feet. The memories of gore were already fading from his mind, letting his stomach settle into its normal stillness.

Barton stood silent for a moment, looking down at the floor. "Nat said no one knows about… the farm."

"No?" Loki was confused. He thought that the man would have told at least a few people about his hidden family, if only to protect them if he was killed.

"You really didn't tell anyone?" Barton was incredulous.

"Why would I?" There was no fun in controlling the very human agent anymore. Loki's goals were set much higher. Or at least differently. They would be when he _had_ a real goal, anyway.

"Because you… You still hate us. I know you do. This…" he gestured over Eleanore and the Captain, "this is just because of that spell, right?"

"I have to protect them, yes. But despite what you seem to think, I do not target helpless women and children." Loki shrugged, raising an eyebrow and giving the Avenger with whom he'd spent the most time a mischievous grin. "At least not without some purpose."

"Don't joke about that," Barton growled, meeting Loki's eyes with tense caution. "That's my family. My kids."

"They are in no danger from me. Not now, and likely not ever." Loki needed to gain the Avengers' trust. They trusted Barton, and Loki needed to at least lessen Barton's animosity if he was to develop a hold on the powerful team. "Will that suffice to reassure you?"

Barton scowled and looked away, his eyes falling on the blood-splotched woman to Loki's right. "Were you really mind-controlled?"

Loki's initial flash of anger was tamed under his own suspicion. _Was_ he really mind-controlled? That would explain his current state of imbalance, how anger left him drained, the way he could turn on a moment's notice into a dispassionate killer. He'd never been that way in the past, not when he'd thought himself a prince. He'd hated killing and violence then, going so far as to distance himself from the Jotuns' deaths via the Bifrost. Now, he just hated dealing with the aftermath. He also used to be much more rational, taking down anyone with their own words. Now he was bested by sick women and their daughters. "I… I am unsure," he answered honestly. "If I was, I think I was a much more willing subject than you were."

"Because you were mad at your parents?" Barton pressed. He was no longer scowling, but he still looked unconvinced. "Why don't you know if you were or not?"

"I have no family," Loki said simply, no real emotion behind it. Just emptiness. "And I am still… My memory is not clear. I recall using you…" He stopped himself. This was more than he'd told Eleanore, more than anyone knew. Then again, Barton also likely remembered his time spent with Loki. "I recall wanting this planet. I no longer feel that way. I do not recall when I began desiring it, or when that feeling went away. In short, I cannot remember a series of events that specifically led to my actions, other than the ones that led to my original fall."

Barton was staring at him impassively. The man was a true spy, as good as Romanov at hiding his emotions behind a mask. "That's how I felt. Right after… When Nat hit me on the head and I woke up, I couldn't remember why I even wanted to help you. I still don't remember you roping me into it. And when I did everything… I wanted to. But when I got better, I was… I didn't want to _have_ done those things. So yeah," Barton scrutinized him with narrowed eyes, then shrugged. "If what you say is true, then you're recovering."

"How do you know what you want, then?" Loki asked before he thought about it. Sometimes he wanted to kill everyone in sight, and other times he just wanted peace and quiet. He'd saved Eleanore and now Rogers without thinking of the spell that bound them. He also wanted to break their necks when he thought of that spell. So what did he truly desire?

"I want to be who I was before, so that's who I act like," Barton said, as though it was obvious.

"Well, that is not possible for me." It was Loki's turn to scowl at his past. The naive boy who'd tried so hard, only to fall short because he was, in all respects, a monster. So many years wasted chasing an impossible goal.

"I don't know what to tell you, then." Barton shrugged and headed back up to the front of the plane. "But let me know if you figure something out." He paused before the door, not turning back. "Don't waste your second chance."

Loki sat back in his seat, staring at the whiteness of the blankets, the rise and fall of the Captain's breathing. Who was he supposed to be? All his life, he'd been first and foremost a prince, with lessons, training, parenting all tailored to that identity. People had treated him like a prince, and he'd treated them like he was one. These people treated him as an equal, and in truth he was. Or something lesser. A monster. But he knew he did not _want_ to be a monster, it was just a fact of his biology. Who would want to be Jotun, if they had a choice? Like Eleanore's resemblance to her mother, personality and all, he was doomed to be monstrous from birth. He was disguised, though, and the mortals had no idea about that side of his identity. He would keep it that way. But who did he want to be? He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand that smelled like the bathroom soap over his face. This was impossible to answer in his current state. No matter who he wanted to act like, anger could change him into something unrecognizable. So the first step was controlling himself.

If he could regain control, he could… what? Rewrite his identity? Mortals had short memories, but Asgard and the rest of the Nine would only see him as the traitor prince. So he could return to Asgard in disgrace after whatever change Eleanore demanded had been acted out. That was his future. No matter what identity he laid out for himself here, he would be forced back into the role of dutiful son and advisee to the Throne when Thor ascended.

He needed a distraction if he was to curtail the rage building in his chest. Loki rose and paced over to the small storage cabinet, looking through the things Eleanore had left out of her medical tour. There were more blankets, though these were thicker and gray. Bottles of water and a small array of snacks were kept in a small box on the shelf above, next to a stack of material. Loki looked through these and found sets of loose, uniform clothing like the exercise items back in the apartment. He glanced back at Eleanore, whose clothes were ruined, and set aside a short sleeved gray shirt and a black pair of pants, which had a drawstring in their waist. The rest of the cupboard held parachutes and flotation devices, along with a box with a picture of a strange raft on it.

"Loki?" Rogers' voice scraped against his ears. Loki turned and found the man looking around, trying to sit up.

"I believe Lady Eleanore would tell you to lie still," he said, glancing at the still-sleeping healer. He examined the weak man in front of him, and found chapped lips and sunken eyes. "Are you ill? I'll wake her."

"No, don't." Rogers raised a hand. "I'm just thirsty. I'll be fine."

"If that is all," Loki took one of the water bottles from the cupboard, uncapped it, and handed over. Rogers once again tried to sit up, but he only succeeded in spilling a good deal of his first drink all over the blankets. Loki sighed. "Here. Lie back." He adjusted the bed to a more upright position as Eleanore had taught him on their flight over.

"Thanks," Rogers said, downing the bottle in a few quick gulps. Loki handed him another one, and he drank it just as fast, looking a little better. More awake, at least. Still pale as a corpse, but his eyes were brighter.

Loki noticed him shiver and returned to the cupboard, finding the largest long sleeved shirt he could. All the shirts were gray, all the trousers were black. "Can you manage this?"

"Think so," Rogers grinned at him, pulling the garment over his head. He wrestled it over his torso before sitting back, out of breath. "See? Good as new."

Loki didn't like the friendly look in the man's eye. He frowned at him, and closed the cupboard door. "May I otherwise be of service?"

"You okay?" Honest concern clouded the soldier's features. "Is everyone… Did they all get out okay?"

"Go to sleep, Captain." Loki shook his head at the near-panic his evasion caused. "Everyone except you escaped without injury." He picked up the clothes for Eleanore and laid them on the seat by her feet, then sat down on the other side of the plane. He pulled a book from the air, one about the history of Muspelheim that he'd never finished in three hundred years.

Rogers laid back obediently, relief written clear across his features. He looked Eleanore and Jet over, then tried to turn around to get a look at their pilot. That did not work, and he settled back, arms shaking, paler than before. After that, he stared straight ahead resolutely, his eyes flickering over to Loki every so often.

That did away with whatever concentration Loki might have had. "What is it?"

"Sorry, it's just… Did the bombs get stopped?" the Captain asked quietly, looking like he anticipated a harsh answer.

Loki actually felt a small amount of pity for the idiot. He squashed it, shaking his head. "As far as I know, yes. But I was not aware of your full mission in the first place, so I could not tell you whether it was successful or not." He thought for a second, then stood. "Wait a moment."

He stepped into the pilot's area, startling Barton, who swore. "What do you want?"

"Have you any informational device? The Captain is awake and asking questions." Loki remained polite, enjoying the spluttering that was coming to a stop.

"Oh, yeah. Here." Barton handed him a shiny rectangle, like a large cell phone. "So far no reports of terror attacks. We might have stopped them. I'll be out in a minute."

"Thank you." Loki took the rectangle back to Rogers and watched as he quickly pulled up different news sites. Loki had seen these when his henchmen had gauged the public reaction to his appearance in Stuttgart. SHIELD had covered it up well, so he barely made an impact.

"Thanks," Rogers said as an afterthought, not looking up from something called BBC.

"It appears you have nothing to fear." Loki sat back and resumed his book.

"Did you find the leader? Big guy, stubble, wearing the only bulletproof vest." Rogers' expression fell as Loki shook his head.

"I personally did not. Perhaps Barton shot him, or the dragon trampled him to a pulp," Loki suggested. It was entirely possible, even probable.

"I don't think so," the Captain said dejectedly. "He left right after they started on me. I heard cars leaving. They just haven't struck yet." He looked down at Loki's book. "Sorry, I'll let you read."

"It was boring three hundred years ago, and it has not changed." Loki shrugged off the apology and vanished the book again. "What was their plan?" He understood the man's frustration. Still, if he had only had someone along with him, he would not be in this situation.

"Intel said biological bombs in highly populated areas. Experiments on a massive scale." Rogers handed him the tablet, and Loki started scrolling through all the stories. There was nothing to warn of such an attack.

"Steve?" Eleanore finally woke up, looking immediately confused and concerned. "When did you wake up? How do you feel? Here, look at me." She pulled a tiny flashlight from her pack and held Rogers' chin. "Follow the light with your eyes."

"I'm fine," the soldier protested, still following the order anyway.

"Which is why you cannot put a shirt on without gasping for air," Loki enjoyed the glare he got in response to that interjection.

"Where did you get a shirt?" Eleanore looked around as though clothes would appear from the ceiling.

"Loki got it from that closet." Rogers submitted to the rest of the examination, letting Eleanore take his pulse and put a shining hand over his head, chest, stomach, legs.

"You're just recovering from blood loss," she said, standing straight. "Tell me how you're feeling."

"Shaky," Rogers sighed. "Weak. Tired, I guess. I don't want to sleep right now, though."

"Then just lie still," Eleanore told him. "Have you had any water?"

"Two bottles," Loki said, pulling another one from its shelf and handing it to the 'patient'. "Here. And I set some clothes for you over there. Unless you like wearing blood."

"Oh, thanks." Eleanore looked down at herself. "Well, so much for these. Although they might make me look more intimidating. What do you think?" She spread her arms out, then faked an angry expression.

"Terrifying." Barton stepped out of the control room, grinning a little. "Hey, Cap. Remind me to put a tracker on your shield."

"He won't be going without backup again," Eleanore said, looking actually stern.

"I know, I know." Rogers gave a crestfallen nod. "Sorry."

"They shouldn't have sent you out alone in the first place," Eleanore placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

"Nat's already checking up on the lady who was in charge," Barton said, sitting and lifting an arrow from the quiver next to him, examining it as he spoke. "Sounds like it was a rookie mistake. Kid got excited when she finally found the cell's hideout, sent Captain America in to clear it up. Thought you'd both be heroes."

"Doesn't she have a supervisor? How'd a missing plane slip through the cracks?" Eleanore asked, still irritated.

"Listen, you're new to this. We work with _humans_ , Elle. People make mistakes." Barton shrugged. "We'll learn from it."

Loki looked at Eleanore to see if she took issue with the ' _humans'_ comment, but she appeared to have ignored it. He wondered if she thought of herself as human or something other. Possibly both.

Eleanore gave it up with a sigh. "I'll let Nat take care of it, then. Be right back." She turned and picked up the clothing before disappearing into the bathroom.

"I'll get back to flying the plane," Barton clapped Rogers on the shoulder as he headed up to pilot again. "We're still a few hours away. Where should I drop you?"

" _Back home, please!"_ Eleanore yelled through the door. She opened it and stuck her head out. "Unless you want to go to the hospital, Steve?"

"No, thanks." Rogers shook his head. "Home's good." Loki privately agreed, having had enough excitement to last him a few days, at least. If his two charges were in the same building, it would be much easier to watch over them.

Eleanore disappeared again, emerging a moment later with wet hair and bulky clothes. "That's better." She looked over at Loki. "Thanks for the clothes. How's it going?"

"I am healthy as ever," Loki informed her, returning his attention to the tablet in his hand. "Learning about the miracle of humankind."

"Want me to leave you alone?"

"That would be preferable, yes." Loki focused on the different news stories as Eleanore fussed around the Captain, getting him one of the thicker gray blankets, making sure he drank enough water and ate one of the granola bars she always had on hand. She made him lift his legs to test the healing on his hip bones, then nearly fell over as the plane hit a rough patch of air.

"I think you better sit down," Rogers told her as she righted herself on the railing of his bed.

"Yeah, yeah." Eleanore smiled and buckled herself into the seat, petting Jet again and tucking her knees close to her chest.

The communications hub buzzed again, and so did the tablet Loki held. The dark haired woman who had shot at him when he first arrived on Earth appeared, looking flinty as ever. Loki quirked an eyebrow at her, and silently handed the technology over to Eleanore.

"Maria," she greeted her, holding the rectangle up to eye level. "What's up?"

"Is Rogers awake?" this 'Maria' got right to the point.

"I'm right here Agent Hill," Rogers answered, holding out his hands and taking the tablet for himself. "What's this about?"

"Jesus, they really did a number on you," the agent muttered. She quickly regained her composure. "I'm calling for your debriefing report, since your _medic_ is taking your home without coming into the hospital."

"I'm fine," Rogers said for the thousandth time that day, drawing himself up and looking as able as a very weak and pale man could. "I'll give my report in person, if that's what you prefer."

"I can see you're lying on a gurney, and you look like crap. Just tell me now. I'll record it for posterity."

"Fine." The soldier sighed, closing his eyes before he began, his voice distant. "I was informed of my mission at oh three thirty, and taken to SHIELD headquarters, where I was given a packet and briefed shortly before taking off. I hit the target at oh ten hundred local time, landing on the roof of the apartment building and making my way to the third floor where I was… compromised. The enemy had a paralysis drug, and they got four darts and a syringe in me before taking me down. They took me to a basement and performed physical torture with the eventual intent to kill. While I was there, I heard the leader leave with three or four large vehicles, possibly filled with their bombs. I was down there for two and a half hours. Clint, Loki, Eleanore, and Jet pulled me out and got me on the plane, where Eleanore performed medical treatment while Loki assisted. That's it."

If that ever happened to him, Loki would have been livid and seeking revenge on whoever sent him into that place to die. Rogers was the opposite, seeming to accept it as part of the job. _Is that who I should be?_

"Thank you, Captain." Agent Hill said, writing something down. "Can you hand me back to Eleanore or Loki? Clint already gave his report."

Rogers handed the tablet to Eleanore when Loki shrugged it off. She took it, frowning, sitting up straight. "Ready?"

"Yep, whenever you are."

"Okay. Loki and I were informed of Captain Rogers' solo departure at oh four thirty by Tony Stark, who you really need to lock out of your systems by the way." Loki grinned. This was shaping up to be much less professional and much more entertaining.

"I know. Problem is, he writes a lot of our software. Or Darren does, and he's just as willing to hack us." Hill rolled her eyes, "Back to the debrief."

"Tony sent one of his jets. It was slower than the one St— the Captain was on, but it also had medical supplies. Can you make it a point not to send anyone out without a pilot?"

"Eleanore."

" _Then_ we flew across the Atlantic Ocean for five hours, arriving at the target at… thirteen hundred, right?" Eleanore looked at Rogers, who nodded. "Agent Barton provided cover fire and Jet provided cover smashing while Loki and I searched the apartment building from the roof down. We found a _lot_ of biological bombs, Maria. Is there a team cleaning it up yet?"

"Yes, we're analyzing everything. Continue."

"The rooms on the first to fifth floors were bomb-creation and sleeping quarters. Talk about taking your work home. I located Captain Rogers' general position as below us, but we reached the ground floor without finding him. Loki found a trap door, which led to a basement — he called it a dungeon — where guards were holding Captain Rogers in chains, hanging from the ceiling, beating, shooting, and stabbing him to death. His regenerative ability is the only reason he survived that long. He was drugged, completely paralyzed, and I conservatively estimate his blood loss at about four to five pints. Four to five _pints_ , Maria. His suit had been removed, but I was able to salvage his shield as Loki pulled him from the building and onto the plane. Clint took off as soon as we were all on board, and Loki assisted me while we first removed the paralysis drug, which felt like poison. It was deadening his nerves, and they'd injected him with more, faster than he was burning it off. Then we pulled five bullets from his body and healed everything up. Captain Rogers was suffering from a fractured pelvis, contusions, the aforementioned blood loss, fourteen bullet wounds, and twenty really damn deep lacerations ranging from his feet to his head. Once he was healed, I yelled at that… operations coordinator. And Captain Rogers went to sleep. The end."

"Thank you. Now I need to hear Loki's side." Agent Hill's two-dimensional face was handed across Rogers' body to him, and Loki took it. He composed himself because he was inwardly grinning from Eleanore's statement.

"Agent Hill," he greeted her, keeping his face blank.

"Loki. I'll take your statement." She didn't show any recognition, nor any animosity.

"Certainly. As Lady Eleanore stated, we set off from Washington DC at five thirty in the morning. We flew across the ocean and listened to Agent Barton's plan of attack, which we followed. I transported Eleanore to the roof, and we searched for Captain Rogers, finding him in the _dungeon_." Loki looked up and got an eye roll from Eleanore and a grin from Rogers. "I helped him out of the building and onto the plane. Lady Eleanore did the real healing, but I am happy to be of service, of course." He stopped, since his sarcasm was getting out of hand. "The building had several rooms for making explosive devices, but only one laboratory, also located in the dungeon. I would be interested to know what they were working on."

"We'll let you know as soon as we've got it tested," Agent Hill said. "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"No." Loki handed the tablet back to Eleanore because she reached for it.

"Anything else for us, Maria?" she asked.

"That's it for now. We may have questions for you, or we might bring you in for examinations, depending on what kinds of stuff you guys walked through. Try to rest up. We're getting an influx of enhanced villains, and not as many heroes to fight them. We'll need the Avengers soon." The screen went dark, leaving the plane in relative silence.

"Good to know we're still useful," Eleanore joked, walking over to the cupboard and getting Rogers another bottle of water. She opened her pack and took out some sort of listening device that she stuck in her ears. She placed the circular end of it on the Captain's chest. "Deep breaths." He complied, going paler after breathing three times. "I think you should maybe go to the hospital for observation."

"No. I feel better already," Rogers protested, shaking his head.

"You don't get to say you feel better while you're lying still in a bed." Eleanore lifted his chin and checked his pulse. "I'm not a doctor, Steve."

"You're better than my last doctor," he replied. Loki wondered what that story was, because it made Eleanore frown and raise her eyebrow.

"I told you they're not all like that. Your pulse isn't very steady, and your heart sounds faint. You got hit a bunch of places, maybe with lasting side effects."

"What's a doctor gonna do about that, though?" Rogers was stubborn, setting his jaw and returning her stare. Loki geared up to remember ever minute of the possible fight.

"Give you some blood. Duh. And check you over for nerve damage. You can't just shrug that off, Steve."

"You checked my nerves. And I'm regenerating the blood."

"I removed the poison that was deadening them, and healed them a little bit. And I'm _tired_ , Steve. I don't think I could bring you back again, not for a few days."

Rogers looked her over, much less obstinate. "I'm sorry. Sorry you're tired, sorry you had to come get me. But I really want to hold off on the hospital. I'll do everything you say, I'll stay in bed. I'll eat everything and drink my body weight in water. If I get worse, then I'll go to the doctor's, but not before."

Eleanore bit the inside of her cheek and looked over at Loki. He shrugged to say, 'I have nothing to say on the matter.' She drew her lips into a thin line. "No exercise for two days, at least."

"Deal," Rogers said, sighing. He looked up and gave Eleanore a forced smile. "Maybe you should be a doctor."

"No." She shook her head, listening to his heart again. "I still don't like this."

 _Well I don't like my situation either. Sometimes you must give in,_ Loki thought, but didn't say.

Eleanore laughed suddenly, "I can feel your sarcasm from here, Loki. You can just say it."

"Or you could quit invading my privacy," he countered, baring his teeth in a feral smile.

"Sorry, it's hard to control sometimes." She looked unapologetic, which angered him further. Whoever he was to become, he did not want it to be _her._

"Practice creates perfection," he said, liking the originality of his new saying.

She just rolled her eyes. "Not all of us get to spend two hundred years practicing. But I'll try to do better."

"We've got about an hour, guys," Barton said, coming through to use the bathroom. "Still no hospital?"

"No," Rogers said, turning back to meet his eyes.

"Okay, if you say so." Barton shrugged. "Hey Loki, I have a question."

"What is it?" Loki asked, prepared for something awful. There was no way the man had fully forgiven him yet, if he ever would. Loki wouldn't, if he were in that position.

"If you got Elle up to the roof, why didn't you just transport there, grab Steve, and come back?"

"Ah," Loki nodded at the legitimate query. "Larger distances take more of a toll on the bodies transported, and I can only go where I already have a solid conception of the space. Also, it is supremely difficult to go from a moving state to a still state and land in the right position. If I had attempted such a thing, Rogers would not have survived, and I might have died along with him, if I could transport back at all."

"Huh," Barton cocked his head, thinking the concept over. "Makes sense. Gotta pee." He disappeared into the bathroom without another word.

The rest of the flight was blessedly quiet. Loki experimented with more variations on appearing and disappearing his new knives, getting a feel for them. Rogers watched him silently, almost dozing at times. Eleanore played around with the tablet and texted Darren from her cell phone.

"Stealth mode," Barton's voice informed them from over the plane's speakers. "We're right above your building. How's this gonna go?"

"Loki?" Eleanore asked politely, shouldering her pack.

Loki sighed imperceptibly and stood, looping Rogers' arm over his shoulders again as the man tried dizzily to sit up on his own. The hatch opened, and Eleanore jumped onto the roof and turned back to watch their progress. Loki easily supported Rogers, who helped a lot more now that he could somewhat control his muscles. It was a little more awkward with the man still in his underwear, but they managed. Eleanore held the door for them, and unlocked Rogers' apartment door with her spare key. Rogers quietly requested Loki to leave him in the bathroom a moment, so he did, standing outside the door and hearing everything. After that, Loki took the man to the bedroom and found a pair of sweatpants. Rogers hastily donned them, lying sideways on his bed afterward, breathing hard.

"Okay, Steve." Eleanore said, stepping around Loki and drawing the covers back. She helped the Captain to right himself on the mattress and pulled the blankets up so he could reach them. She looked exhausted, but her voice didn't betray her. "I'm going to pop one of those leftover meals in the oven. Lasagna or chicken casserole?"

"Whichever is fine," Rogers relaxed with a sigh, looking even weaker in his large bed.

"Okay. Sleep if you can. I'll bring some water in in a minute," Eleanore checked his pulse once more, watching the clock on the wall as the second hands passed. "Just rest, and let me know if you need something."

"Thanks. I will." The soldier closed his eyes as they left, peace crossing his features.

"So do you want lasagna or chicken casserole?" Eleanore asked Loki as she filled a lidded plastic cup from the sink.

"What is lasagna?" Loki asked.

"Layers of pasta and meat and cheese. It's really good."

"Chicken casserole, then." Loki looked around, then picked up Rogers' sketchbook as Eleanore went into the bedroom. He thumbed through the pages, actually impressed with the realistic depictions captured from the man's everyday life. His favorite by far was the page covered in mistakes as the Captain had tried to capture the cat in motion. Eventually the artist had given up and waited until the animal curled up and fell asleep. He found mountains covered in snow with a tiny train running through them. Portraits of unfamiliar men. Himself. Loki paused at that, looking over the rendering of him with the cat in his lap, reading a book. This was from just a couple of days ago. What caught Loki off guard most was the aspect Rogers had put on his face: calm and distracted with reading, his body relaxed, his expression open. Every bit a man at peace with himself. Loki hadn't seen himself that way in almost a century, not even when he looked in the mirror. _That is who I want to be._

"Loki," Eleanore whispered, catching him off guard. "Ask before you look through that. It might be private." She walked over and took the book from his hand gently, closing it without looking at its pages.

"My apologies," Loki forced out, stuck in the middle of a revelation.

Eleanore stopped and looked up at him with attentive eyes. He met her gaze, mind still spinning, moving slowly around this new idea. It felt like his thoughts were slipping way before he could fully grasp them. He was getting frustrated, trying to remember the last time he'd felt truly confident in himself, in who he was.

"If you need some time," Eleanore started, speaking quietly, jarring all the ideas to a standstill, "our apartment's unlocked. I'll stay over here tonight. Supper'll be ready in a couple hours."

"Right." Loki left abruptly, walking into the main room lit with late afternoon sunlight. The cat trilled over to him and he picked it up, trying to remember what he'd felt that day when he was reading. He'd had a pleasant enough day, sparring and whatnot with Darren and the Captain. He'd been physically spent and ready to wind down. But it was impossible to maintain that sort of physicality at all times. What did he want to _be_? Not just an idea, but a person, an entire, multi-layered personality. How did he perceive himself now? _Monster_ was the first word that came to mind. There was no escaping it. But what else? _What more than that?_

He'd seen amazing things in his long, privileged lifetime. Just living on Asgard offered wonderful scenery and incredible magical features. Alfheim's people lived at one with their planet's energy, making houses from trees and whole forest cities. He'd learned from the best sorcerers in all the Nine, whether Odin had liked it or not. He'd grown up in Thor's shadow, yes, but he'd grown strong on his own. He'd gone on quests and adventures, finding wonderful treasures and even better memories. He'd nearly ended Jotunheim, an accomplishment in itself, and one which he would always be proud of. He'd killed on Midgard as well, but that was less impressive. Pointless, even, because the mortals were so numerous and headstrong.

None of this was helping him reach a conclusion. Maybe there _was_ no conclusion, just a half-formed thought that he'd latched onto with his last remaining vestiges of hope. He'd wanted to be at peace with himself, but who was self-aware and truly at peace? Not the Captain, though he acted self-assured. Neither of the Starks, and not Romanov or Barton. Banner was laughable. Eleanore was the only person who came to mind, and she did not count, as she was so incredibly young. Lydia was the next answer, and she was legitimate. Dying and serene, she knew who she was and what she wanted. He put the cat down and transported himself immediately, without waiting to think things through until he was standing in her room, breathless with discovery.

"Oh my gosh!" There was a thump as something heavy fell to the carpet. Loki turned around from facing the bed and found Lydia Engman with a hand to her throat, the other having dropped a cup of water.

"Forgive me," Loki said hastily, magicking the glass off the floor and drying the water.

"Is something wrong? Is Elle okay?" the woman asked, stepped forward and looking Loki over. She'd only find his Asgardian attire, which was casual and comfortable and not indicative of battle at all.

"Yes, please do not concern yourself." Loki held his hands out, feeling absolutely foolish for taking such drastic action without giving it a moment's thought. "I just wanted to visit."

"Oh." Lydia settled down almost immediately, turning back to the kitchen. "Want some tea?"

"I can get it," Loki offered.

"No, it's my room, my rules. Sit." She got out two mugs, the same ones from the day before, and filled them with water before putting them in the heating box.

"Your cord is missing," Loki observed, falling into a comfortable rhythm already. He would not offend this woman easily, so he could say exactly what he liked. He did follow her order to sit, taking his seat from the day before.

"I only have it for a day or so each time," Lydia informed him. The box beeped and she put teabags in the mugs, and a bit of sugar in one before bringing them over. "So, you're feeling social?"

"One could say that," Loki had no idea how to start the conversation. Had no idea what he even wanted to know. _Lydia, how do you deal with the idea of your mortality? What made you who you are? How many vague questions will you puzzle over before you send me on my way?_

"Well, one might call me surprised. Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Captain Rogers suffered injuries on a mission," Loki said truthfully. "Your daughter and I brought him back. He is very weak."

"You can just call her Eleanore. It's what I named her." Lydia sat back and set her mug aside. "Is Steve going to be alright?"

"It appears so, yes."

"That's good."

She was trying to politely draw him out, but Loki was at a loss. He felt the futility of the situation, and stood. "I'm sorry. I should leave."

"What? No, sit back down. You can't just leave me with a full mug of tea to waste." Lydia half-rose, a pained expression crossing her face.

"I came to ask unanswerable questions," Loki admitted, preparing to transport away in embarrassment. If he was lucky, Eleanore would not know of this situation.

"Well, try me. I like a challenge. And drink your damn tea."

"Very well." Loki looked down at her and frowned, contemplating her steady, dark eyes so like her daughter's. "How do you make peace with your death?"

"Oh, that." Lydia waved him over. "Sit down, if that's all you're worried about. Jeeze, I thought you were going to ask me about childbirth or something."

"Does childbirth come into it?" Loki asked, smiling in spite of himself. He sat back down on the edge of the chair.

"Depends on your perspective. But it's not very complicated. When I found out that this was the end, I just accepted it and went on living."

"You…" Loki tried to swallow that answer, but could not. "You went on dying."

"Everyone's dying, even you, God of Mischief." Lydia smiled at him and sipped her tea. "I've had this disease for two years. If I just gave up when I found out about it, that'd be two wasted years."

"I suppose so." This didn't help him. He searched for a better question. "But how are you so… self-assured."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm dying. And I'm a middle-aged woman. We don't change a lot after college, unless something big happens. Like childbirth," she winked at him.

"I'm not asking about childbirth, thank you." Loki shook his head in exasperation. "This is not going to work. I don't know what I want to ask you."

"Why don't you tell me why you came here instead? And no 'unanswerable questions.'"

"I…" Loki put his face in his hands and sat down, heaving a sigh. "I don't know. Not yet. Thank you for the tea. I should go."

"That's fine, but stay awhile. You made the trip, and I like company."

Loki considered it and consented. Eleanore would condone it, apparently, since he had not been prevented from his trip. "I apologize for the vagaries."

"I raised a teenage daughter. Vagaries are okay." Lydia smiled at him over the rim of her mug. "So Steve got hurt, huh?"

"It was fairly serious," Loki said, knowing she would warm to a story of her daughter's bravery. "He left on his own to take down a terrorist cell, and got captured. Luckily, Tony Stark called your daughter and sent another jet to let us follow him. We rescued him, and your daughter brought him back from the brink of death."

"Do you know her name?" Lydia asked, frowning at him.

"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"

"You never use her name. I named her after queens and a very smart, strong woman, and you just call her 'my daughter.'"

"Fine. Lady Eleanore brought Captain Rogers back from the brink of death." Loki rolled his eyes in exasperation. "She is also your daughter, so the title is accurate."

"No Ladies. Eleanore saved Steve's life. How bad was _Steve_ hurt?" Lydia raised an eyebrow at him in a direct impression of her daughter's no-nonsense-you-better-not-fight-with-me expression.

" _Captain Rogers_ lost four to five pints of blood." Loki had no problem arguing with someone, no matter their expressiveness.

"Holy crap," Lydia's jaw dropped. "He's still alive?"

"For the moment." Loki enjoyed shocking people. "He resisted a hospital visit and is resting comfortably at home."

"Is Elle okay? How tired was she after helping him?"

"I have seen her in worse condition," Loki said honestly. "When we were cleaning up New York."

"Do me a favor and make sure she sleeps tonight. If she's tense or worried, she'll only have bad dreams and stay awake all night long."

"And how do you suggest I help her sleep?" Loki asked. "I know of one surefire way, but I doubt you or Darren would approve." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, don't be gross." Lydia shook her head and reached over to hit him on the arm.

"My lady, I am merely suggesting the use of a sleeping spell!" Loki used his most innocent expression, which hadn't seen the light of day in decades.

"You're so full of it," Lydia chortled, laughing merrily as Loki smiled at his success.

"If by 'it' you mean cunning and intelligence and magical prowess, then you could not be more correct."

"I meant shit, but sure. Let's go with those." Lydia laughed again, and Loki grinned.

Suddenly, a mortal song started playing from over by her bed.

"Oh, that's my phone. Could you hand it to me?"

"Of course." Loki got up and retrieved the device from the bedside table, noting Eleanore's picture and name on the screen. He gave the phone to Lydia, resisting the temptation to answer it himself.

"Hey, babydoll," Lydia greeted her daughter.

" _Mom, I can't find Loki anywhere! I don't know what happened, but he was acting weird earlier, and then he went to our apartment from Steve's while I cooked supper, but he's gone for sure and I have no idea where he could be, and—"_ Loki raised his brow at the absolute panic that came from the phone's tiny speaker, and the fact that Eleanore first called her mother for advice.

"Honey, he's right here," Lydia interrupted Eleanore. "Take a breath, okay? He came to visit me. We're having tea."

" _Tea. Are you serious? I've been running all over the neighborhood, through the whole gym… Is he okay? Why's he visiting you? He was acting like something was bothering him earlier."_

"You'll have to ask him about that," Lydia said. She gestured with her hand, "Loki, come here and tell Eleanore that you're okay."

" _No, it's okay Mom. I'm just glad he's safe. I have to go check on Steve."_ Loki could hear a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. _"I'll come visit tomorrow. Jaya sent you a to-go box again. Love you, bye."_

The line went silent, leaving Lydia staring up at Loki. "You scared the crap out of her."

"She has plenty to spare. Is that how you'd put it?" Loki was annoyed. Eleanore could not even let him out of her sight for two hours without wanting him back under her control. He flopped back in the chair and took a gulp of lukewarm tea.

"Someone's a pouty pants." Lydia chuckled and crossed her legs, setting her phone on the arm of her chair.

" _Someone's_ daughter is an annoyance," Loki said snidely. He knew that was being unfair, telling a mother unkind things about her own child, but he didn't care.

"I don't know who that could be," Lydia joked. "Why do you hate her so much? She seems to like you."

"Poor judgment on her part," Loki muttered.

"Look, I know you have to stay with her, but is she that bad? Really?"

"She took my freedom away," Loki snarled. "She is my jailer, tying me to this miserable planet. Do you think I should _thank_ her for it?"

"Whew," Lydia let out a breath. "Sounds like that was boiling inside for a little too long."

"Do you not understand? She is the festering wound on the face of my existence."

Lydia looked at him for a moment, then started laughing, even louder than before. Loki waited for her to get over her episode of insanity, but she only got worse.

"Shall I leave you to your mirth?" he asked, glaring.

"I'm sorry, am I being a pimple?" Lydia lost her composure entirely, cackling like a witch. Loki's confusion and anger were slowly replaced by humor as he thought about what she could find so funny. Probably, no one she knew had ever been compared to an infection. It was a _tad_ dramatic. Not over dramatic, just dramatic. He started laughing too, and soon they were both sliding in their seats, lost in a bout of pure hilarity. It was not just the joke, but the laughter that kept building on itself more and more until his sides hurt. He hadn't laughed like this in such a long time, not since before he learned the truth about himself.

 _And why can a monster not laugh?_ he asked himself as Lydia started wiping tears from her eyes. He indulged his own giggles a moment, longer, growing more composed with only the occasional outburst.

"Oh, that was amazing," Lydia said, sitting up again and picking up her phone from where it had fallen to the floor.

Loki chuckled, "I live to entertain."

"But really," Lydia grew serious again, although a smile still lurked around the corners of her mouth, "you hate her that much?"

Loki thought about it for a moment. Did he hate Eleanore? Certainly, he had when they'd first met, but he'd hated everyone then with a sort of all-consuming passion that, in hindsight, could have been enhanced by the lingering effects of mind control. In his current mood, he did not hate many people, but that could always change. "Hate might not be the right word. Resent. I resent Eleanore. She holds me hostage here, while I waste my time among you. Saving short lives for a few more years before they would…" he trailed off. Lydia only had a year. He didn't want her to die. He didn't _want_ anyone to die, but especially not this motherly, humorous, understanding woman.

"It's not the time," Lydia said gently, seemingly reading his mind. "It's how you use it."

"I can see that," Loki said quietly, feeling the lightness from their bout of laughter draining away to somber realizations.

"Can I make a suggestion?" she asked.

"You are likely to either way." He waited with anticipation.

"Maybe you could use your time here. Make the most of it. You're only a thousand years young, right? Elle won't keep you here forever." She took a deep breath, thinking something through. "Just try to enjoy the journey instead of only longing for the destination."

Loki considered her advice, finding nothing really wrong with it. "I don't know how well I will carry that out."

"All you need to do is try. Or don't. It's totally up to you. Just remember one thing?"

"What is that?" he asked, expecting more wise words.

"Elle called to make sure you were okay. She didn't order you to come back." Lydia shrugged, meeting his eyes with dark intelligence. "Just something to think about."

It was. Loki did think about it, realizing she was right. "Thank you for the tea. And the conversation." He smiled at her, rising and taking their mugs to the sink. "I think I shall return to the apartment now."

"Have a good night," Lydia stood and stretched with a grimace. "See you tomorrow?"

"Oh, most likely." Loki transported back into the dark main room of Eleanore's apartment. The cat jumped off the couch and make its way around his legs. He considered finding Eleanore, remembering Lydia's request that she sleep. He turned himself invisible and transported to the Captain's apartment, where the lights were dim but present.

She was asleep on the sofa, an arm hanging down, a plate with the remains of something greenish on the floor beside her. Rogers was also slumbering, looking more relaxed than Loki had ever seen him.

Satisfied that his promises were kept, Loki went back to his own bedroom and settled in to sleep, thinking about Lydia's words.

He hadn't gotten the answers he wanted, but he had learned some things from their visit. Firstly, that he recognized Lydia's sense of humor from his experiences with Eleanore. They laughed at everything, but especially the dramatic and over-serious. He supposed it was how they coped with the events around them.

Secondly, Lydia had made some undeniably good points. Loki was a logical man; he prided himself on his ability to step back, reassess, look at things from every angle. His anger had blinded him somewhat these past couple of years, and he had grown used to it. Changed, and not for the better. If he was following Barton's example, Loki would change his reasoning and behavior back to the person he'd been before his fall. He'd remember experiences and mistakes, learn from them, and move on. Possibly try living in his present situation instead of constantly longing for something impossible and different.

Because what he truly wanted was impossible, and changed from day to day. He could never go back to being the dutiful prince, but he fell back into the pattern of craving it and the fonder memories of his past that went along with it. He could not rule this planet, as Asgard was watching it and Midgard's forces could not stand against the Aesir, even if they wanted to. Even with their 'enhanced' abilities, a war would result in countless deaths and unnecessary tragedy. His mind brought forth an image of every mortal he'd met piled in a bloody heap, awaiting the burning burial that Asgard's enemies could expect. Ambition was not worth that, especially when he was sure to fail.

What he _could_ do was prepare this world for Thanos' revenge, as he'd planned before. This second scheme, though, gave him much less a leadership role, and more of an advising one. The Captain could lead them, if he could learn to rely on his team. He already listened to others when they knew something he did not. Loki could actually help, advancing the Avengers' strength until they could actually contend with any force Thanos could send against them. They would not trust him, yet. That burned, the idea of their narrowed eyes, Stark's doubt, SHIELD's hesitation to follow his advice. Another reason for the Captain to lead. The man inspired more trust than Loki could ever hope to.

Loki started making a list in his head of the resources he knew to be at Thanos' disposal. His two 'daughters' who were really assassins, the Other with his magical abilities, the Gauntlet itself and the Time and Soul gems. Loki grinned, mentally congratulating himself for stealing the Mind gem away from the Wooer of Death. It was still on Earth, under protection of SHIELD. Loki doubted very much that he would be allowed access to it, but that was for the best. His connection to the Mind gem would give the Other, and therefore Thanos, access to and influence over his thoughts. In fact, he might want to warn the people experimenting on it of its call to the Death Bringer, its potential to control their minds as well. So that gem was still very much under Thanos' control, just not in his possession. An enticing source of power for the eager mortals to use, a way for them to be used.

He did not know when he would start implementing this plan, or if he ever would. First, he would try adjusting his own perspective, taking a good look at how he now saw things. Making sure he wanted to help the people of Midgard in the first place. Do as Lydia had suggested and try to find a reason to enjoy his life again, even if he chafed under Eleanore's control.

He sighed, rolling to his stomach. _"…is she that bad? Really?"_ Loki did not think Eleanore as a person was terrible. She took after her mother, genuinely kind and honest and mentally resolute. It was her power over him that he hated, and that made him resent her.

 _But she has not exercised much control of me. Yet._ She asked him for help sometimes, but he could count on one hand the times she had actually activated the slavery spell intentionally. She'd silenced him that first night on Midgard to avoid a fight, which he _would_ have caused. She'd also ordered him to help rebuild New York when he'd refused to do it. Stopped him from killing Thor. But nothing in the past few days. Even when she was healing the Captain, Loki had never felt the compulsion to obey. If she continued to refrain from orders, Loki decided he could be slightly less hostile. Or at least he'd try. Debating was still fun, and he wasn't going to give that up.

That settled, he sighed and closed his eyes, letting the day's events wash over him in a flood. The early morning, the flight and medical training, the building's various bombs and dying men. He'd need to start calling his throwing knives back so he wouldn't waste them. He also wanted to practice with the guns. They were fun to shoot, and the bullets were numerous. Rogers' injuries flashed behind his eyes, and he cringed, recalling all the blood. A normal mortal would be dead. Then again, a normal mortal would not have gotten into that situation, and he would not have had a mutant woman, a dragon, and an ancient god coming to his rescue either.

Sighing, Loki switched his thoughts to repetitions of spells, rules for casting, different kind of energy. These calmed his mind, and he was able to drift off to sleep.

He woke up to darkness and the sound of someone moving in the kitchen. Loki hadn't locked the door the night before, so he cautiously opened his door and discovered Eleanore making eggs.

"Morning," she greeted him, looking a little less tired than the day before. Perhaps she'd had those bad dreams after all.

"Good morning." Loki walked around and got two mugs down, pouring himself some coffee.

"What are you doing? Don't drink that," Eleanore said, not ordering but sounding so shocked that Loki's hand froze on the mug's handle.

"Is it poisoned?" he asked, figuring it was meant all for Rogers or some nonsense.

"No, here." She opened the warming box and pulled the green striped mug out, full of steaming water. She reached into the cupboard above the stove and brought down a box of Bengal Spice tea, plopping one of the bags in the water. "Sugar's right here." She pointed vaguely to the container while Loki processed what had just happened.

He finally figured out that his manners still existed. "Thank you."

"Yeah, it's no problem," she smiled up at him, handing him a spoon. "Want cheese on your eggs?"

"Why not?" He stirred sugar into his tea and smelled its enticing scent. Took a plate and got out of her way as she dished up two more.

"Steve's better today. Want to come eat over there? Not in the bedroom." Eleanore tried unsuccessfully to open the door with her hip.

"Yes," Loki reached around and held it for her, following her into the next apartment.

Rogers was sitting on the couch, sketchbook in hand. He brightened when Eleanore entered, and greeted Loki. "Hey, how's it going?"

"I am well." Loki took a seat at the small counter with his eggs and tea. He took a sip and let the warmth suffuse into his body, reminding him happily of laughter the night before. He looked around the sunny room, with two smiling people who were sharing some joke. Turning to him to see if he was in on it. He grinned back, taking a bite of eggs and noting their happy reactions. _Yes, I think I can try._

 _ **A/N: Here's Chapter 18, just in time for the end of the weekend. Loki's going through some stuff, as always. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, also as always.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thanks again for your encouraging review! While Loki has seen messed up battle stuff before, he's still a little inexperienced when it comes to torture. At least in this story. I know mythology has different versions, but I'm going to use those in a different way. No spoilers! :)**_

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	19. Chapter 19: S Recovery

The next two days passed slowly for Steve. Saturday wasn't so bad because he was still pretty weak and shaky on his own legs. Elle had given him a checkup every couple of hours and decided he was improving slowly. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept well the night before, although he'd woken her up when he made a morning trip to the bathroom. She made Steve drink two bottles of water an hour and eat five meals plus some snacks with nutrients to help replenish his blood. No caffeine, not too much sodium, and not a lot of sugar in his diet to keep his organs in good order. She and Loki only left him alone for about an hour and a half while they went to visit Lydia and Peggy. Steve read the news while they were gone, looking for any signs of terror attacks connected to the cell. There were none.

They returned with favorable reports, and then they watched the _Terminator_ movies in a marathon late into the night. Loki thought the idea of Skynet was absurd, with all the new mutants coming to light. Eleanore pointed out that the main movies were created before mutants had caught the public eye, so they story just centered around 'normal' humans. Steve was reminded of the Red Skull when the Terminator's skin was burned off. He petted Charlie's stomach during those scenes. Elle had brought the cat over periodically to be sure he didn't get lonely by himself in the apartment. Jet was still sleeping off his fighting and flying from the days before, cashed out in Eleanore's bed.

Sunday tested his patience. He woke up early to find Eleanore asleep on the couch again, so he couldn't do much besides stay in his bedroom until she woke up. He felt a lot better, and the idea of climbing down his fire escape for a quick run was tempting. He didn't though, because he'd promised and because Loki could probably wrestle him into going to the hospital if Eleanore told him to. He wasn't actually that worried about it, but Elle had seemed really worried about him and he didn't want to stress her out any more. She finally woke up at six, looking well rested, and said Steve was almost back to normal, but to give it another day. He'd been expecting that, and accepted it instead of a hospital visit. He just didn't like doctors anymore, or trust them. Bruce was the only exception, and Steve would even hesitate to bother him if his injury wasn't too bad.

Darren showed up late that morning, bringing his promised video game and two controllers, and Steve spent the better part of the afternoon learning how the commands worked and playing through _Halo_. Steve abandoned it after a while and walked around, watching as Darren switched the game to 'legendary' mode and took Loki on in a one-on-one battle. He saw the 'smug look' Elle had described when Darren beat Loki, but the younger Stark was a good sport when Loki started winning more and more.

When they were done, Loki suggested a _real_ sparring match over at the newly renovated gym. Steve and Eleanore went along and watched as the two men faced off, Darren losing time after time. Loki kept instructing him, though, and his technique and speed improved quite a bit as the competition went on. Steve wanted to get in there, but he didn't even try, knowing that no one would fight him in his current state. Instead, he memorized Loki's moves and planned counterattacks against them for the next time they fought.

Eleanore's phone rang partway through one of the more intense matches, when Loki and Darren were trading hits so fast Steve almost had trouble tracking them. She stood and went upstairs to talk, since it was getting loud in the basement. Steve watched as Loki sped up even more, actually looking a little out of breath. Darren's jaw was locked, and he had a focused, determined look in his eye that explained why he was lasting so long and making his opponent actually try. He was even guarding his torso, which was his weakest point. His footwork was great, his stance was natural. He'd improved a lot.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the fight. If Steve hadn't known the two fighters well, he wouldn't have noticed it. Darren's foot started resting just a second too long on the mat, and Loki started hammering him with direct hits, throwing him constantly off balance and gaining an edge. Darren tried to correct himself, but it was too late. While he was distracted with his stance, his arms fell, and Loki landed a palm right in the middle of his chest, sending him sliding over the mat toward the spectators bench and hitting the corner post's padding hard.

"You okay?" Steve asked, standing and walking over, grabbing a couple towels from the little cart and handing them to the combatants.

"Yeah," Darren was grinning as he wiped his face. He held out a hand, and Loki helped him up. "I almost had you!"

"Please," Loki chuckled, accepting the cloth Steve handed him. "I was humoring you."

"No, I _just about_ knocked you over," Darren insisted. "I've been practicing for it."

"That much is clear. You are not _as_ slow anymore." Loki gave a nod to Darren's accomplishments, summoning three bottles of water through the air and tossing one to Steve. "You still have a long way to go to be a real threat."

"I need to update my armor," Darren ignored the jibe, staring up at the ceiling. "It won't let me move that fast. I want protection, but I don't want to be slow."

"Eleanore's armor is light and quick," Loki commented.

"But it can it take a tank round? No." Darren scoffed affectionately, looking around. "I'd put her in one like mine, if she'd let me. She's already complaining about how bulky that newest version is. Where'd she go?"

"Phone call," Steve told him, leaning his arms against the ropes of the ring and taking a drink. There was also a new wrestling or sparring mat installed over in the open area where the punching bags used to be stored, but he and Darren favored the ring because there were flexible barriers to catch them when Loki knocked them across the room. The new punching bags looked tougher, and there were some heavier ones, all placed in a little room with hand tape and extra fighting gloves. "Darren, who do you practice with?"

"Sometimes my dad, but mostly against this robot I designed. I programmed it to mimic the most common moves the whole team makes, and adapt to my motions. It's not as good as Loki, but it's something."

"I would test the machine," Loki said, reclining against the ropes.

"Sure." Darren laughed again, sitting on the ring's floor. "Just break my sparring partner so I can't get any better and beat you."

"If the device is broken, the creator is at fault," Loki retorted, smirking. He was more talkative lately, and more inclined to make non-harassing jokes. Steve had noticed this, but hadn't commented on it, not wanting to dispel the man's good mood, especially when it lasted two days. Whatever his reason for it, Steve trusted him a lot more for saving his life. Loki had pulled him out of the building, but he didn't have to help heal him. There'd been disgust and aversion in his eyes at some points of the process, but he'd stuck it out even so. He'd given Steve a shirt, set out clothes for Eleanore to change into. Clint had even acted friendlier toward him. Steve couldn't figure out an ulterior motive, other than tricking them into a false sense of security, but he also didn't want to. He wanted this to work.

"You guys hungry?" Darren asked, jarring Steve from his contemplation. Darren was almost always hungry, no matter when he'd last eaten or how much. Steve remembered his mother saying Bucky stored food in his legs as he grew taller, and he thought she'd say the same thing about the younger Stark.

Still, Steve was almost always willing to eat. "What do you have in mind?"

"Anything sound good to you guys?" Darren asked. Steve shrugged, and Loki inclined his head noncommittally. "I know this Chinese place that's really good."

"Lead the way." Steve had his wallet with him, and he was going to pay the bill this time.

"You okay to walk?" Darren asked as they headed up the stairs. "It's about three blocks further down the street."

"I'm fine." Steve was actually feeling almost out of breath from climbing the stairs, his heart pounding like he'd just run a marathon, but he wasn't going to admit to it. He could walk three blocks, damn it.

"M'kay," Darren said distractedly, looking around the entryway. Eleanore was nowhere in sight. "Did you say she came up here?"

"Yeah, I saw her go up the stairs." Steve would have noticed if she came back down.

"Maybe she's in the bathroom," Darren said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'll text— oh wait, she texted me." He opened it, his hand blocking the screen. "Oh, she's gone."

"Gone?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Her dad came to town and they're going out to dinner. He does this." Darren shrugged it off. "Anyway, we can head out."

"Her dad?" Steve hadn't even thought about Eleanore having a dad. Thinking back, she'd mentioned him once and said her parents were divorced and he 'wasn't around'.

"He drops in every few months," Darren explained, leading the way out he door and down the street. "He stays in a hotel overnight, and they go out to dinner and hang out, maybe have coffee the next morning." He lifted one shoulder and dropped it, "He probably remembered that Elle graduated or something."

"Oh." Steve tried not to be too curious about that comment. He'd always wanted to meet his own father, but he knew lots of kids who would have been glad to be rid of theirs. He caught himself mid-stumble, having lost track on his feet, and his focus shifted elsewhere.

"You sure you're okay?" Darren asked. "I can get my car."

"I'm sure," Steve assured him. "We're almost there, anyway." They'd gone two blocks, all walking quickly through the pedestrian traffic on a Friday night. Steve could see groups and couples and solitary people all out enjoying the nice weather. Bars were opening their doors for the five o'clock hour, and cars were lining up down the street for good parking spots. The trees lining the sidewalk were blooming with white flowers that smelled amazing.

"Here it is," Darren led them into a little restaurant, another buffet, situated between a convenience store and a place called _Cocolatte_. It sounded like a coffee shop, but the people waiting in line outside it looked dressed for modern dancing. It was probably a club.

Inside, the owner didn't seem to know Darren, seating the three men quickly and without a comment. He brought them empty glasses, which they filled at a soda fountain in the corner. Then they went through the buffet. Steve chose to be adventurous, putting a little bit of everything on his plate. When he got back to the table, Darren was already digging into his first stack of food, which was a mishmash of noodles, mushrooms, and shrimp. Loki arrived a moment later with a salad, shrugging at the other two when they looked at him curiously.

"I like fresh vegetables," he said, digging into the lettuce with no dressing.

Steve started on his own samples, immediately disliking the crab rangoon.

"You dip those in sweet-and-sour sauce," Darren informed him. "But I don't like them either."

Next Steve tried the shrimp and found them good. So were the brown noodles Darren had had. The broccoli was less cooked than Steve was used to, but it had a good flavor. The fried rice was great. Everything tasted salty after his day of avoiding sodium, and he went slowly, monitoring himself for any adverse reactions. When he went back for seconds, he got some soup and watermelon to try to nullify some of the stuff he'd eaten. Unfortunately, the soup was salty too, but it was so good Steve finished it anyway. Then he got some more brown noodles and tried the mushrooms on some more fried rice.

"I am not familiar with this culture," Loki commented halfway through his third plate. He had tried other things, but he'd gone back to the salad.

"You visited Europe, so I don't suppose you would be," Darren said. "China's halfway across the globe from Scandinavian countries."

"I was never in that part of the world either," Steve added. "Hydra was spread across Europe, but it didn't get to Japan."

"We should have sushi sometime," Darren said excitedly. "It's Japanese. Don't listen to Elle describe it, or you won't want it."

"What is it?" Loki asked, frowning.

"It's raw fish rolled into rice and wrapped in seaweed. No, see? You have to try it before you think it's gross." Darren held up his hands as Steve and Loki both wrinkled their noses.

"I will judge when I please," Loki responded. "That sounds like an excellent way to poison yourself."

"I'll try it," Steve said when Darren looked crestfallen. "After I'm fully recovered," he added, when the younger man brightened up. It did sound like poison.

"Sure, I'll bring some over. If you don't eat it, I will."

After that, Darren concentrated on eating his way through six plates full of food, and Steve and Loki both slowed down as they got full. When it looked like Darren was almost done, Steve got up and went to the counter to pay. It wasn't bad, for as much food as they'd eaten.

The walk back to the apartment building seemed long. Six blocks, it turned out, was actually an issue for his tired legs. Steve couldn't believe how weak he still was, trying to control the shaking of his joints with every step. The stairs nearly got him, and he forced himself to the top, breathing hard, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest. He felt like his old body had come back, with all its ailments and frailties. He wondered, in a moment of mental panic, whether the stuff they'd injected him with was negating the serum. Disregarded it as he unlocked his door. He was recovering, it just took time.

"Here," Darren pulled a throw pillow off the couch. "Sit."

"Before you collapse," Loki added, walking slowly at Steve's elbow.

"M' fine," Steve muttered, sitting as he was told, feeling tired and frustrated.

"Tell that to your reflection," Loki pulled a mirror from thin air and held it in front of him. Steve saw a pale, gaunt version of himself staring back with startlingly bright blue eyes.

He just sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, I get it."

"You just need some time," Darren said, handing him a bottle of blue Gatorade from the supply Steve kept in his refrigerator. "You actually lost six and a half pints of blood. That's half your supply. It's amazing you survived."

"Feels amazing," Steve deadpanned, gulping down the Gatorade.

"I'm sure." Darren chuckled and stood, looking around. "I brought an extra controller that's in my car. Want to play _Mario Cart_?"

"Sure." Steve looked at Loki, who nodded. "What is it?"

It turned out to be a very fun, addicting game. Steve could actually beat Darren and Loki at this one, quickly learning what each extra item did and how to use them. The other two men sat on the floor, closer to the television, but Steve stayed on the couch and tried not to move too much. Darren was Bowser, and Loki was Luigi. Steve switched between Yoshi and Princess Peach, enjoying the reactions he got when he dropped a banana or a blue shell. He got knocked of the track plenty of times himself, grousing each time and getting revenge every chance he got.

Darren had the advantage the first couple of races, and he didn't go easy on them at all. He blue-shelled Steve three separate times and rammed Loki off the track, chortling the whole time. Then Steve and Loki ganged up on him, and he couldn't get an item to save his life. They exacted revenge for one race, and then focused on winning for themselves.

Loki concentrated on the screen with unwavering intensity, and when he got knocked off the course, he drew in a deep breath and glared at whoever did it until his character came back. It made Steve and Darren laugh every time, and eventually Loki would grin or roll his eyes and hit them with a bomb or something. "Fear my wrath, mortals."

They got louder and more involved as time wore on. Darren yelled whenever he got a hit in on someone, Steve lost his cool and groaned "Nooooo" when he'd get knocked over. Loki even let out a "Ha!" when he won by the skin of his teeth. It was hard to focus on the correct screen, so Steve often found himself repeatedly driving off cliffs, staring at someone else's car. Darren did the same thing, shaking himself every time, growling engine noises "…to make the car go faster." They played until they'd mastered every track, except Rainbow Road. Everyone fell off that one all the time without any help.

The door to Steve's apartment opened in the middle of a race, and Steve only glanced up to see Romanov entering with a basket of fruit.

"Don't get up," she said when he set aside his controller. "I'm just here to see how you're recovering."

"Recover this!" Darren blue-shelled Loki, earning a hiss and a grumble of "Insolent half-breed."

"Looks like you're doing well," Natasha commented, seating herself on the arm of the empty easy chair. "What's Elle say?"

"Rest, relax. No activity for a while." Steve had to agree with her after his experience that night. He couldn't go back in the field if he was going to be a risk to his team, and he couldn't even walk six blocks.

"Sounds about right. You look terrible," Natasha smirked.

Steve scoffed, "Darren says I'm amazing."

"Huh?" Darren asked, not really listening. Loki was sneaking up on his tail, and he was trying to block him from passing and beat him to the next set of crates.

"That's sweet," Romanov stood and sighed. "Well, I'm heading out of DC for a while. Clint's out, too." She headed for the door. "We'll let you know when we get back."

"Stay safe," Steve waved as she left. He sat back, trying to relax his muscles and watching the races continue in front of him. His heart still beat faster than he was used to, about ninety to one hundred beats per minute. Memories of his old body were playing behind his eyes, and he let them because a lot of them were still good. Before they war, Steve hadn't thought as much about the frailty of his limbs, since Bucky always kept pace with him. They'd searched for girls and jobs in old Brooklyn, Bucky finding a managerial position in a factory, Steve designing posters after he went to art school. They didn't have a lot, but they'd had fun.

The door opened again, admitting Eleanore. Steve did a double-take as she stopped, holding Charlie and letting Jet follow her inside. She looked more stressed than she had on Asgard when she'd fought with Odin, almost shaking, her shoulders rising toward her ears, taking shallow breaths and looking around with large eyes.

"Hey," she greeted them with a forced grin, then frowned and looked Steve over. "What did you do?"

"Ate Chinese and walked home," Darren supplied, leaning side to side as he tried to keep his car on the track.

"Chinese." Eleanore moved into the kitchen and filled one of the plastic tumblers with water. "Drink this," she ordered, concern adding to the tension in her body language.

"I'm really fine," Steve said, accepting the water and the cat.

"Hush," Eleanore replied, taking his pulse. When she was done, she bit her lip and put a hand on his heart, silver light playing over his red t-shirt. Steve didn't feel any healing, only the warmth of her palm. "Did you experience any shortness of breath? Heart racing? Cold sweat? Anything else?"

"Just the first two," he said honestly. She'd be able to tell about his heart by his pulse, anyway.

"Chug that water." She waited while he did that, then refilled it from the air. "Stay sitting for a while," she instructed him, getting up and going back into his kitchen. She returned with a banana. "Potassium helps counter your sodium intake."

"Sure you're not a doctor?" Steve joked, peeling the fruit and taking a bite.

"I've been looking up ways to prevent organ failure in people who've lost too much blood." Eleanore was somber, taking Charlie back and moving to sit in the armchair. She frowned and watched the game on the television. Darren and Loki had switched back to Halo, and were running around and building things in an open, peaceful valley. When they were done with that, they attacked each other's bases. "Darren, low sodium means no restaurants."

"Sorry," Darren shrugged over his shoulder at her. "I didn't think about it."

"It's my own fault," Steve said, unwilling to let the other man take the blame. "I knew there was too much salt in the food, and I ate it anyway. Quite a bit of it. And I pushed myself too far, activity-wise." He felt pretty bad for making her worry more. He didn't know she'd been so anxious about it, but he should have guessed. She'd really wanted him to see a doctor. And apparently having supper with her father also raised her stress levels more than a battle did. "Sorry."

Elle looked at him a moment, then sighed. "I didn't mean to be so abrupt. How're you feeling now?"

"Better." Steve finished the banana and took a long drink of water. "How was dinner?"

"It was fine. Darren, he wants to have coffee with us in the morning." She looked exhausted at that thought, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Coffee? Okay." Darren looked over at her, then stood and gave his controller to Steve. He walked over and slid into the seat next to Eleanore, putting his arm around her. They were both thin, but it was still a tight fit. "Hey kitty kitty."

That made Eleanore smile. Steve wondered what it was about the supper that had made her so intense. Was her relationship with her dad really that strained? Had something else happened? It was none of his business, but he was curious. He lost to Loki over and over again as he turned possibilities over in his mind. When he got tired of it, though, he hid an energy sword in his armaments and snuck up on the demigod's armored figure, running him through.

"You guys look like you're having fun," Elle commented, yawning. "I'm going to bed. Early day tomorrow. You should drink two more tumblers of water before bed, Steve. And come get me if you feel anything off."

"OK, goodnight." Steve got a distracted wave as she left, taking the cat and dragon with her. Darren followed a second later, leaving Steve and Loki to virtually destroy each other. They played on the same map for another fifteen minutes before they killed each other at the same time and set their remotes aside.

"Good match," Loki said, stretching and standing up.

"Thanks. You too." Steve gestured to the technology in front of them, "I didn't know video games would be this much fun."

"I have never played such simulations before," Loki got himself a glass of water and drank it. "Asgard favors physical competition."

"Makes sense," Steve got up and refilled his own cup, following Loki back to the living room and sitting back on the couch while the demigod took the single chair. "So no magical training aids like that robot Darren made?"

"No," Loki frowned. "No magic is allowed on the training grounds. Not that I always respected that rule." He looked dejected, lost in thought.

"Do not many people use magic there?" Steve tried again, treading lightly. He was still confused about Elle's strange behavior, and he didn't want to cause Loki to push her further.

"No, it is a peculiar art." Loki held out his hand and conjured a knife, one of his old ones, turning back and forth and staring at its lines. "Asgard has weapons of mass destruction that dwarf Midgard's, you know. The Tesseract is now in a vault, sealed with many other ancient powers considered too dangerous to actually use in battle. They are magical, and not many understand their inner workings. Some are not available for study, and none but the Allfather knows what function they serve. Individual magic is considered similarly unruly, and it is not encouraged in favor of real strength and prowess. It also requires a certain amount of talent and study, and many think their time is better spent elsewhere." He spoke informationally, his tone quiet and eloquent. Different from how Elle explained things. His voice told a story that Steve could see playing out in his mind's eye. A young, dark-haired boy, weaker than his older brother, finding something he was _really_ good at. Being told that thing was dishonorable. Learning it anyway, in spite of the disapproval. Being pushed toward 'real' skills, in spite of his passion for studying what was real to him.

It was a lot to assume from a short explanation, but Steve knew it was all true. It was also the longest speech he'd heard Loki make since Stuttgart and the helicarrier. He chose his next words with care. "I think magic is a real strength."

"It is certainly more acceptable here," Loki pulled himself back into his normal, distant attitude. He tossed his knife in the air and caught it absentmindedly. "But muscles seem to be more important than brains on this realm as well."

"Yeah," Steve admitted readily. "That hasn't changed in seventy years. If anything, it's gotten worse." It was his turn to share. 'Reciprocity,' Elle called it. "Back in the forties, kids dreamed of going to college. Getting a desk job, staying out of factories. My mom was so proud when I got into art school, back before I was… like this. A lot of people weren't that lucky, though. But the War did start the economy up again, so I hear, so maybe education just wasn't as big of a deal."

"Midgard's education is very limited," Loki commented, holding his chin in his hand and running a finger over his lips. "Your short life spans severely stunt your capacity for knowledge." He looked at Steve, and there was something in his eyes that caught his heart. Like he expected a retaliation for that thought.

"Maybe," Steve wouldn't go that far. There were still geniuses. Darren, Tony, Bruce. Coulson had mentioned someone called 'Stephen Hawking.' Darren cited Nikola Tesla a lot, saying he was an inspiration and that Edison was just good at marketing and being a jerk. He wasn't insulted by Loki's perception. "We learn from each other, though. And we still get a lot done with the years we have."

"Perhaps…" Loki was thinking again. "Perhaps your feeling of constant mortality pushes you to accomplish more."

"I don't know," Steve said, honestly considering it. This was the best discussion he'd ever had with Loki. What had changed his attitude? "What's it like to live as long as you have?"

"Normal," Loki replied with a grin. "You humans truly seem like insects, with your fleeting impressions."

Steve didn't take offense, returning the grin and sitting back. "I suppose we would."

"But your world has changed much more than Asgard has these past thousand years," Loki continued. "Your lives are responsible for that, I think. Advancements are possible when one does not cling too hard to the old ways. Or when those who do eventually die."

"That's one way to look at it," Steve agreed. "It's also nice not to think about polio or tuberculosis as constant threats."

"How many diseases does your kind suffer from?" Loki asked incredulously. "It's a miracle you have such a massive population."

"There's still a lot of illnesses," Steve thought seriously. "But Asgardians probably don't reproduce as fast as we do. Longer lives, less need."

"Most families have one to two children," Loki informed him. "But yes, the need for expansion is not a pressing one."

"I guess having two sons was kind of insurance for the royal family," Steve raised his eyebrows. "Do women get to rule?"

Loki's face went blank, and he regarded Steve carefully. "A woman never has. In times of war, when the Allfather is away, the Queen does make official decisions with the traditional advisers, but the King is consulted for important ones."

"That's not really fair," Steve frowned, letting the topic steer away from the royal children. He remembered Loki was adopted, and that was probably a touchy subject, considering he'd tried to eliminate a realm after he found out. "What if the king dies? And there's no sons or anything? What then?"

"That has not happened, either. Not in recorded history." Loki was withdrawing from the conversation, turning his eyes away. "If it were to occur, I am certain that Asgard's current Queen is more than capable of holding the throne. However, if there is a son at all, he is crowned almost immediately, no matter his age. It happened in my lifetime, on another realm. The ruler died unexpectedly, and his twelve year-old son took his place."

"That's a lot to place on a kid," Steve thought about himself at twelve, running around with Bucky, getting into fights and trouble. Puberty was scary enough without being responsible for a 'realm'.

"The advisers and the queen helped greatly in that case," Loki assured him. "Midgard has similar monarchies, do they not? If the realm is at peace, as Svartalfheim was, then the young ruler has plenty of time to learn about his new kingdom."

"It just seems strange not to let the queen rule alone," Steve shrugged. "Women are good leaders too."

"Better in some cases," Loki agreed quietly. Steve wondered if he was thinking about his mother, who was so much quieter and more considerate than Odin. "But those are the traditions. I do not presume to change anything with my limited influence."

"Your mom seems like a good queen," Steve tried, thinking to draw him back out.

"Frigga Allmother is not my mother," Loki said coldly. "Lady Eleanore said that Thor told you the circumstances of my parentage."

"Only that you're adopted. It's not a big deal here," Steve raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I don't know what it's like there."

"You do not," Loki agreed. "Suffice to say I was never destined for the throne myself. Not adequate insurance as a son."

"Huh." Steve noticed the hour, around midnight. He wasn't too tired, but he wondered if Loki wanted to keep talking. "My dad died before I was born. My mom was a nurse, raised me by herself."

"Your father was a soldier?" Loki asked.

"Yeah. You read that in a file somewhere?"

"I merely deduced it. You could have followed in your mother's footsteps to become a healer, but you chose a life of violence instead. You do not enjoy killing, so there must have been some other determining factor."

"I couldn't have afforded college to be a doctor," Steve shook his head. "But I always wanted to be a soldier and protect people."

"So instead you avoid doctors," Loki smirked at him. "Though I will admit Eleanore is more effective. But more forceful as well."

"She worries about the whole team," Steve rolled his eyes at Loki's obvious jab. "You know that. And I don't avoid doctors, I just don't go without a cause."

"You are a terrible liar, Captain Rogers." Loki actually laughed at something Steve didn't understand. "But speaking of the Lady, and your healing, I should let you rest. It would not do to reverse her efforts with you." He stood and took his glass to the sink. Steve held the door for him and then locked it, gulping down another entire tumbler of water and taking the glass to bed with him.

 _That was almost friendly_ , he thought, reviewing the discussion with Loki. It was practically unbelievable. The demigod hadn't lost his temper once, and he'd even volunteered information about himself. _What the hell happened? Did I miss something while I was knocked out?_

He wanted to believe it was real, that it wasn't just an act to get Loki freed more quickly. He hadn't hesitated to save Steve, but the spell would have compelled him to either way. But he'd acted different ever since then, too, the behavior spread out over days. It wasn't like his acting that last morning they'd gone to clear the streets of New York, when Loki couldn't keep sarcasm out of his tone. Steve didn't think he was as good of an actor as Thor said, since he had so much trouble hiding his emotions. As Steve got to know him more, Loki was easier and easier to read. And he'd seemed almost relieved to spar and mess around with Darren, like it was something he missed. He'd been held prisoner for two years, Steve recalled. Camaraderie probably wasn't in good supply in that situation. And he'd controlled the people around him on Earth, until the Avengers finally defeated him. Maybe friendship was what he secretly craved.

Steve was willing to bet any mention of these suspicions would send Loki right back into his shell, where he'd look out at everyone with self-satisfied coolness. There was already hints of that whenever the conversation moved to a risky subject. But when he felt comfortable, in control, Loki would answer questions directed at him and keep the exchange going. He _liked_ debating, Steve had seen when he'd poked fun at Elle and Darren's political views. He also liked bouncing his ideas off people, seeing if they stuck. He'd seemed unused to it, too. When he'd said something that could be considered offensive, Loki had watched him carefully. Every time Steve accepted his ideas, he'd opened up a bit more.

 _Isn't that the same for everyone?_ Steve remembered being ridiculed for 'stupid questions' and wrong answers by a particularly severe teacher. How it had made him hesitate before he raised his hand. How glad he was when Bucky would say the same thing after class. Loki probably hadn't had anyone that close. Best friends like Bucky were one in a billion, and Thor was so different, even for a brother. If magic itself wasn't discouraged, then Loki had spent two hundred years with his mind filled with ideas no one else shared. No wonder he'd stuck with the conversation, even when he'd felt uncomfortable.

Steve felt satisfied that he'd actually done something to help with Loki's recovery. He felt like his day hadn't been wasted on a weak body recovering from a stupid mistake. Elle had said negative emotions would make him heal slower, so this glimpse of positivity was probably for the best.

He sighed, feeling exhausted despite his relatively uneventful day. The best part about being injured was that he could sleep every night, so far for five or more hours at a time. The bad part was that he slept more deeply, so nightmares held him under like torturous hands holding his head in a tank of water. Often, the more terrifying dreams featured water in some way. Steve made a note to write that in his journal to be shared with Eleanore the next time they talked about it. At any rate, he could feel his eyelids sinking closed. He let himself go, knowing his body needed the rest more than his mind.

 _ **A/N: Shorter chapter than the last two, but it felt like a good place to end. For anyone interested in dates, this chapter takes place over Saturday and Sunday May 12th and 13th, 2012. On a bright note, my husband and I celebrated our first anniversary yesterday! So that's why it took an extra day to post this newest addition. That and I got a library card for the city we've relocated to, so I've been reading myself. :)**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thanks for your review! Yeah, Loki has a while to go before he can figure himself out. At least he's in good company, as most of the people I know in real life haven't fully figured themselves out yet either. ;)**_

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thank you for reading! Please rate and review. I love to hear what you think!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	20. Chapter 20: L EMS

When he woke in the morning, it was to the sound of the apartment door closing and two sets of footsteps crossing to the Captain's door before making their way down the stairs. The silent apartment was extremely conducive to eavesdropping, although Darren had put a silencing spell over Eleanore's bedroom the night before. Loki could not find fault with that, since he had no desire to hear _any_ noises they might make in the wee hours.

He rose, deciding a shower was in order for his rare solitary stretch of time. He collected a set of underclothes and a green long sleeved shirt with buttons on it. black trousers and black shoes completed his earthly ensemble. On his way to the bathroom, he stopped to pet the trilling cat, who followed him in as he closed the door. He set it outside, feeling strange about soulful green eyes watching him disrobe. He put the clothes on the counter and turned on the water, waiting for the warm steam to start circulating in the enclosed space. There was a fan, whose switch sat beside the lights, but Loki did not like having it on because it limited his perceptions. It was very loud. And without it, he could still hear everything that went on in the apartment and the hallway.

Like the quiet _snick_ of the Captain's door opening and closing. Loki frowned down at his unclothed body and sent a magical tracker to keep the man's location in his awareness. Likely, he was sneaking out to exercise alone, which Eleanore would forbid. Loki was not in the mood or attire to stop him. He also added a judgment to the spell that would alert him if the Captain's mood changed to anything like tension or panic. Satisfied with his protection, Loki entered the shower and spent time washing himself to feel refreshed and fully clean.

His spell did not alert him until he was drying himself off with 'his' towel — a coarse, white thing that left much to be desired when compared to Asgard's drying cloths. He froze in the middle of brushing the material over his dripping hair, feeling real panic evolving distantly, detached from Loki's own feelings. He'd based the spell on how he'd sensed Eleanore's affects treated his own consciousness. It was not exact, but it was enough to make him straighten, pause his breathing, locate the man. He was in the basement of the gym. Loki called the clothes onto his body and pulled himself through space, appearing in the dim room next to the sparring ring with the barest stirring of air. He looked around, not catching sight of his charge.

"Rogers," Loki said, keeping his voice at a normal volume. He heard short gasps from the other side of the platform and followed them, finding a hanging punching bag and Captain America crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

He was breathing, that much was obvious. He was also sweating profusely and his lips were blue. _Blue?_ Yes, blue, and turning bluer. Loki felt the man's forehead as he'd seen Eleanore do (as his not-mother had done since he was a boy) and found a cool, clammy, but not Jotun temperature. So this was likely a serious reaction to exercising without all of his blood. He'd been barely strong enough to walk short distances yesterday, only his will pushing him up the apartment stairs. He was a fool for attempting such straining activity without consulting his healer. But then, Eleanore had said he could try light activity today. Loki had heard the implied _supervised_ , but apparently Rogers had ignored it. Another reason he was a fool. Eleanore had informed Loki in the car on their way from visiting Lydia that Rogers would likely take three more days to fully replenish his blood supply, if not more. She'd also wished the Captain would go to a doctor to get some of their spare blood.

Loki couldn't take Rogers to a hospital. Not only did he not know where one was, but transporting the man would almost definitely worsen his already serious condition. And he wasn't waking up or improving, his lips just as blue, his breathing shallow and rapid. Loki checked his pulse and barely found it, beating wildly and soft, like a bird.

Were there not emergency services on this planet? Loki knew there were. He'd seen them himself on the streets of New York and in this city as well. But how did one get them to show up?

 _A phone call, you idiot._ Loki pulled his phone from storage and opened its screen. He knew how to make calls on it, but he didn't know what combination of numbers would bring one of the white, boxy vehicles blaring down the street.

He opened the _Contacts_ list and heard a familiar voice. _"Hello Master Loki. May I be of service today?"_

Jarvis. Perfect. "I need medical services here immediately. Captain Rogers is collapsed." Loki hoped the ethereal being could make the vehicles hurry.

" _I have contacted the proper authorities and an ambulance is dispatched. Estimated arrival time five minutes."_ Loki sighed in relief. He could keep Rogers alive that long. Probably. _"In the meantime, I have taken the liberty of looking up first responder's treatments for hypovolemic shock. Please elevate Captain Rogers' feet twelve inches from the ground, after lying him flat on his back._ "

Loki followed the instructions, guessing at the dimensions. Rogers' head rolled to the side, his face completely slack. _Stupid, arrogant man._ Loki noticed his lips regaining some normal color.

" _Next, please keep the patient warm."_

Loki pulled a cloak from his store, placing it over the unconscious man. Rogers had sweat through his shirt, and his skin prickled with the coldness of the cement floor. "Any more instructions for me?"

" _That is the extent of the first aid. I would advise monitoring the Captain's heart, if you are not already doing so."_

Loki liked this machine's deferential tone. He checked the pulse again and found it the same as before. His lips were normal flesh tones again. So at least the situation was not becoming more dire.

" _The ambulance has arrived. Paramedics are entering the building._ "

Yellow-coated men carrying a light gurney rushed into the room. Loki waved them over, still holding Rogers' feet up, and explained the situation to them.

"So this guy's lost a lot of blood? From what?" one of the paramedics, whose jacket read _Spencer Cross,_ asked.

"Wounds sustained days ago. He is still recovering. He works for SHIELD."Loki didn't know whether or not that explanation would carry with the mortals, but it was all he had. Eleanore had told him Rogers' mission was secret from the public.

"And he hasn't been to a doctor for it?" the other paramedic asked suspiciously. His name was _Cory Read_.

"He is stubborn." _That_ was the full truth, damn the man.

Rogers was lifted and strapped onto the wheeled bed, which the men then carried skillfully up the stairs and into the back of the ambulance.

"Are you riding with?" Cross asked as Read climbed into the driver's seat.

Loki only hesitated a moment before clambering into the vehicle and settling on the bench seat out of the healer's way.

"You can talk to him. He can probably hear you," Cross told him.

"Anything I have to say would fall into the realm of anger, for him getting me into this situation." Loki was only half joking.

Cross surveyed him and offered a small grin. "They'll get him fixed up at the hospital. Saint Mary's is good for emergencies. They've saved ones worse than him." The paramedic worked as he spoke, running a tube into Rogers' nose, lifting his hand and hanging a bag full of clear liquid from the ceiling as the vehicle jolted around. Loki reached out as the Captain threatened to fall off the bed, straining the straps that held him in. "Thanks. He'll stay put, though."

"What are you doing?" Loki asked as Cross fitted a needle into the end of a tube. The contraption was an IV, like Lydia had had. He pressed on the Captain's hand until veins popped out, then stuck the needle into one. The bandages Rogers wore to protect his hands were still in place, dirty and white.

"Starting a saline drip for hydration. When we get him to the hospital, they'll start him on whole blood. Unless you know his blood type?" Cross asked hopefully.

"It might be common knowledge," Loki said, frowning, "but I do not know it."

"Why would it be common knowledge? Is this guy famous?" Cross looked down at the decidedly flopping, pale, gray features of his country's hero.

"His name is Steven Rogers," Loki began, figuring it would be strange to skip the man's actual identity. "But you may know him as—"

"Captain fucking _America_?" Cross screeched, his voice going so high and quiet at the same time he almost sounded like a woman. "Jesus Christ, what happened to him? Did the aliens hurt him?" He whispered, looking around for invisible enemies.

"No, it was humans," Loki thought that much was disclosable.

"Was he saving people?" Even in his excitement, the man was doing his work, filling a needled vial with more clear liquid that Loki assumed was different from that in the IV. He stuck it indiscriminately in Rogers' upper arm and plunged the stick until there were only drops left.

"Trying to." They hadn't heard of any attacks, so perhaps the leader had only escaped. Or perhaps he really had been dealt with. No one told Loki anything, or Eleanore for that matter. He'd bring it up.

"Who are you, then? An Avenger?"

"Perhaps. My status is not solidified as yet." Loki knew Eleanore and Rogers would be quick to claim him. Darren, too. But the other half of their team had understandable doubts that Loki was still planning to overcome. That was, if his charges could stop getting into trouble every few days. Honestly, these Midgardians were like children.

"I'm Spencer, by the way," Cross stuck his hand across Rogers' body as the ambulance slowed. "Spencer Cross."

"I read your jacket," Loki said, returning the gesture quickly, realizing he still had his cell phone. He decided to hold onto it. "I am Loki."

The vehicle stopped then, and the back doors opened almost immediately to an array of blue-clad fluttering people. Loki jumped out and followed as they wheeled Rogers into the large building with the word _Emergency_ lit up over the entrance.

"Sir, please wait over there. We'll ask you some questions after we get him stabilized." A bright-eyed young woman directed Loki to a set of chairs on the far edge of the room. He went and sat there until she came over a few moments later. "Are you his friend?"

Loki went with the simplest answer, knowing no one would hear it. "Yes."

"Could you help me fill out this paperwork? I need his name, cause of injury…"

"Loki?" Eleanore called across the floor, running up to him. "Are you okay? What happened? Where's Steve?"

"He's with the doctors, ma'am," the young woman said. Her name tag shone with the words _Nancy Evans_. She looked a little older than Eleanore, with blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back in a bun. "I'm just getting his information filled out."

"He hates doctors," Eleanore said, out of breath. "Is he awake? Is he freaking out?"

"No, he is unconscious," Loki said, standing again and taking the pen and paper from the nurse and giving them to his other, illogical charge. "She wants his information. You know it better than I."

Eleanore calmed down with something to focus on, as Loki had hoped she would. She filled out Rogers' name, age ( _only a quarter century?_ ), medical conditions (none), allergies (none), and then turned back to Loki with large brown eyes. "How's he hurt?"

"I'll fill that out, if you tell me," the Nurse Evans said, taking the paper and pen back.

"He lost a great deal of blood," Loki began. "It was three days ago. His outer injuries are healed, but he was recovering from the blood loss. This morning, he went to the gym and tried to exercise. I found him unconscious on the floor. I think it is hypovolemic shock that he suffers from."

"Excellent, thank you." The nurse wrote everything down in short bursts. "Do either of you happen to know his blood type?"

"O," Eleanore said, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. "Yeah, O positive."

"That's great. Thanks for everything. I'll go get this info to the doctors. Feel free to wait here, and we'll come out and tell you when you can come see him." Nurse Evans left with a comforting, confident smile.

"Was he really exercising?" Eleanore asked, once she left.

"Punching, to be exact." Loki looked down at her. "How did you get here so quickly?"

"Jarvis called me when the ambulance was on their way. Told me what hospital they'd go to. I made a twenty-minute drive in ten, but I didn't run any red lights. And no cops pulled me over. So it's kind of a neutral day." She sank into a chair and put her head in her hands, then stood up again immediately. "But are you really okay? Did you use your cell phone? What did the paramedics say? Is that how you got here? Did you ride with them? Did you tell them who he was? What were his symptoms? Was he breathing? What was his heart rate?"

"Eleanore," Loki said, interrupting her flow of questions, using her given name to get her attention. They were the only two people in the seating area, some doctors and nurses walking by far across the room. He waited until she'd caught her breath and looked up at him with clear focus. "Which answer would be most important to you?"

"I don't remember all the questions, now." She sighed, sitting down again and remaining there. She hooked the straps of her purse over her knee. "Sorry. I've had a _lot_ of caffeine today. Too much."

Loki sat beside her, mentally running through the series of events and allowing some amusement to enter his thoughts about the mortal intoxicant. It never affected him in the coffee she made. "Perhaps the entire story would satisfy your curiosity."

"It would. Thanks." Eleanore settled back in her seat, then pulled out her phone and texted a quick message to Darren. _"Steve's alive. Hypovolemic shock. Loki got him to the hospital. Thanks so much. Love you._ " "Okay," she said. "I'm ready to listen."

Loki told her everything, including his allowing Rogers to leave and suspecting his intent. If she was going to get angry about his negligence, he wanted it over with. Eleanore didn't even blink, though, when he said he'd waited until the spell had informed him of a problem. She paid attention and raised her eyebrows when Loki described the ambulance ride with the talkative Cross. That was the end of it, until she arrived.

"Thanks for being there," Eleanore said when he was done speaking.

"I had to be. If either of you die, then I do as well." Loki brushed off her gratitude, thinking she should save it for if he ever actually did something nice. The way Rogers was acting, he wanted to die. Loki had done him a disservice by saving his life. Although he supposed he did not want to be someone who let people end. So that was a piece of the puzzle solved.

"Are you hungry?" was her next query. "I bet there's a cafeteria somewhere here."

"I became acquainted with those rations when I was aboard that flying prison," Loki said. "I will survive better without them. Has Darren gone back to New York?" He changed the subject in case she started worrying about his food intake as she now did with Rogers. He was also a little curious.

"He's seeing my dad off. Probably heading out by now. I don't know if he'll come here or head back to New York." Her phone vibrated and she held up a message from her lover. _"Glad he's okay. Your dad might call. Didn't buy the emergency because I didn't go with. Tony and Bruce are testing a HulkBusting armor in NY, so I'm heading there. Let me know if you need anything. Love you."_ She replied, _"We're okay. Waiting here. Drive safe and say hi to everyone for me."_ Loki was relieved when she did not express her affection again. The young couple did it far too much for his taste.

"There is your answer," he said, wondering if she would be annoyed at his reading over her shoulder.

"Yep," she put the device away and tapped her leg on the floor in a nervous, energetic rhythm. "How long do you think they'll make us wait? What did Steve look like when you found him?"

"I do not know, and he had blue lips." Loki eyed her for a reaction, and she met his gaze with concern. "Your Jarvis gave me instructions to alleviate some of the danger. Raising his feet, keeping him warm. So on."

"How did you keep him warm?" Eleanore wondered aloud.

"I summoned a cloak. Covered him with it. The floor was cold, though, so I do not know how much good it did him." His cloak was probably gone for good. It had been a nice one, too, warm and dark gray with a gold clasp.

"Still, that was great." Eleanore looked across the room as she complimented. Loki speculated that she did so to avoid his rolling eyes. "So how do they teach first aid… up there?"

"Do you mean Valhalla?" Loki teased, chuckling at her annoyance. "I am hardly a righteous departed warrior. And they do not need medical treatment, anyway."

"But stubborn, aggravating princes _might_ ," Eleanore said, smiling past the threat in her tone. "Or they might get told to go to the other place."

"Hel? I'm shocked, Lady Eleanore. Proper young women do not speak in that manner."

"You call it hell? Really?" she cocked her head, "Huh. And I never claimed to be a proper young lady. I've disappointed my grandmother in that regard."

"Perhaps the deceased forgive the living," Loki smiled at the thought of the old woman who gave her children and granddaughter her eyes and smile berating Eleanore for pre-marital relations with Darren. He'd gotten that lecture a few times, but it had never slowed him down. His relationships had also not lasted as long as the young mortal and halfling's.

"She's alive. My mom's mom isn't but my dad's mom is. Kicking and calling me once a week from Florida," Eleanore frowned. "But that's not what I asked you about."

"But now I'm interested," Loki protested. "How did your dinner and coffee go? You barely explained them."

"They were fine. We went to my dad's favorite restaurant. This morning, we just got Caribou because we both like that." Eleanore's demeanor changed to defensive as Loki questioned her, and it grew more so as she answered. "Good enough?"

It was time for a little revenge. "What restaurant?"

"Maury's Steaks. He always gets something, orders it rare, then sends it back because they didn't cook it enough." She accepted his challenge, likely understanding what he was trying to do.

"What did you talk about?" Loki asked innocently.

"I told him I graduated. He'd forgotten about that, apparently, since I went a couple years early. He wishes I'd done a different degree. He kept saying, 'Why didn't you continue with that meteorology class? My daughter the meteorologist.'" She sighed. "I told him I got a job with SHIELD, and he didn't like that either. He's nicer now that I'm grown up, kind of. Instead of telling me to do things, he asks me why I haven't."

"What is a meteorologist?" Loki queried, giving her a break.

"A scientist that analyzes weather patterns and makes predictions. I took a class on it to fulfill a requirement, and I just thought it was interesting. I kept my textbook to look at sometimes. It's at home if you want to see it."

"And why did he not believe you when you claimed an emergency?" Loki hit with the main punch— the question that should bring her to a stuttering halt, or anger her so much that she told him to mind his own business.

"I'm always super tense around him, and he knows it. He thought I was just trying to get away. I've done it before," Eleanore sighed instead and leaned on the arm of her chair to look up at Loki. "Now tell me about first aid on Asgard."

"I was taught basic field medicine," Loki complied, even though her demand was not a real order. "How to splint bones, use healing stones, so on. Rudimentary things that any person with sense could do. Why have you tried to get away before?"

"Because I have to, sometimes. Can't handle it any more. Will you teach me how to set bones?"

Loki felt like they were having two different conversations. Eleanore was answering his questions, but she was more interested in the information he offered. "You have set them before in the Tower. That man from the rubble. _Why_ do you need to leave?"

"I just can't listen to him anymore. 'Muslims this, mutants that'. Both groups apparently have an agenda to end this country. No matter how much I tell him otherwise, he doesn't listen. Watches Fox News and only hears what he wants to hear. He's started open-carrying a gun, in case he meets a hostile on the tough streets of Libertytown. And I don't know how to really set them. I'd like to learn. Sometime? Please?"

"Very well." Loki processed what she'd said, knowing he was agreeing to something he would hate. Broken, displaced bones were one of the things that turned his stomach. "Mutants?"

"He hates mutants," Eleanore said simply. "And no, he doesn't know about me. I found out during a time we didn't talk very much, and when we finally did, he started in about how bad they were. We are. Before I could get to telling him. So I just let him ramble and hope none live near him. It's easier." She looked up at Loki with an open expression. "Any more questions?"

"You are a model of family stability," he jested, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with how close Eleanore's life was to his own. The differences were there, though. She was not a true monster at her core, for one thing. Strip away her humanity, and you were left with protective and healing abilities.

She smiled and then chuckled. "I know. I'll try to make sure you don't meet him. Shouldn't have to worry about it too much, since he doesn't visit often."

Loki decided to drop the subject she wanted left alone. It was getting him no real revenge. She was too frank and honest, telling him everything and more than he wanted to understand. "The first thing you must know about setting a broken bone is that force is necessary."

"For what?" Eleanore asked, growing more animated and interested.

"To pull the bone back into place. You must sometimes pull for minutes to get it readjusted. Do you recall Darren's relocation of Rogers' arm bone?"

"He didn't pull, he jerked."

"I was told never to do that. It could injure the muscles that contract to protect the injured area. Pull steadily instead until the muscles relax and let the bone go back into place."

"Wait." She put a hand on his arm and sat up straight, looking toward the door where Rogers had disappeared. _Authorized Personnel Only: Do Not Enter._ She stared at it for a moment, then sat back, taking her hand away. "False alarm. I think they sedated him. Sorry, I'm still listening."

"Well, after you set the bone, I believe you splint it and go see a healer." Loki finished the narrative, recalling everything he'd learned before he and Thor had been allowed to embark on their first adventure without supervision. It was considered a rite of passage for Asgardians, and especially the princes.

"What are healing stones?" The questions, apparently, would not end with his explanation.

"Someone is very curious today," Loki said, looking down with condescension. He didn't mind it, but she needed to know her place.

" _Someone_ sounds like my mom." Eleanore laughed up at him, looking like the parent she loved. "Did you like visiting her the other day? She said you had tea again."

"Your mother is an infinitely more bearable person than her offspring," Loki informed her. All he got was another chuckle. "Do you not wish to know why?"

"Because she's quieter?" Eleanore guessed. "Or because you like people closer to your own age?"

Loki stared at her for a second, then let himself snort and dissolve into his own burst of laughter. "No, because she at least offers some delicious beverage before she talks my ears to ruin."

"All you've had is tea, and I gave you some—"

"Mr. Rogers is asleep," a different woman approached them, wearing a white coat and one of Eleanore's listening devices. She had short gray hair and long legs covered in green trousers that matched her shirt exactly. "He's been admitted to the hospital, and I think he should stay a few days." She paused, looking between them. "Sorry, my name is Doctor Abano. I'll be checking up on Mr. Rogers. Do you know what hospital he normally goes to, so I can get a recent history?"

Eleanore stood up and shook the doctor's hand. "I'm Eleanore Engman and this is Loki. We're Captain Rogers' friends and neighbors. He's affiliated with SHIELD, so I'll call over and have them send you what they can. I don't know how detailed it will be, though."

"Captain Rogers?" the doctor asked. "Captain Steven Grant Rogers?"

"He says I sound like his mom if I call him that," Eleanore said. Loki mentally filed that tidbit of information away. "But yeah."

"Captain America, then. Captain America is lying in that bed with hypovolemia."

"Yeah," Eleanore answered again. "But please don't alert anyone. Or tell anyone here. He's kind of a private person."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," Dr. Abano assured her. "I was just shocked. Are you two…?"

"I'm sorry, but can we go see Steve?" Eleanore asked, interrupting the hanging question. Loki knew she wanted to keep her identity as an Avenger a secret. Since learning more about her family, he could understand why. He didn't think it would last, though. She was romantically involved with a Stark, and she took her helmet off whenever she healed someone. People would figure things out.

"Of course. I'll try to get you an extension on visiting hours, if you're family," Dr. Abano turned and gestured for them to follow her down the hallway.

"Then we're family," Eleanore said firmly. Loki fell in step beside her as they went up a flight of stairs and turned down a hall filled with doors.

"He's in a private room right now. I assume you'll want to keep it that way?" the doctor asked, stopping in front of a door with the numbers 2271.

"Yeah, if we could, please." Eleanore's voice changed with courtesy, gaining a softness that made her sound older and kinder than she normally did. Loki wondered how old she actually was.

"Okay. We've got him on sedatives, but I doubt they'll keep _him_ under. It's okay though, as long as he doesn't move too much. He's getting blood and saline, and he's on oxygen." Dr. Abano opened the door quietly and ushered them inside. "He'll probably have a pretty severe headache when he wakes up. Press the call button when he does so I can come give him a conscious checkup."

"We will. Thanks." Eleanore shut the door as the doctor left.

The room was mostly white and gray. White floors, gray walls, white blinds that reminded Loki of the special sun-energy gatherers that were drawn during Alfheim's hot afternoons. These only appeared to block light, instead of using it. There was a counter with a sink and a series of cupboards above and below it directly to their left. A semi-translucent, white spotted sheet of a curtain hung in front of them, blocking their view of a shadowy platform where Rogers must be lying. The window was large, and its light was the only thing illuminating the room.

Loki hated the place immediately. It smelled of some sort of cleaner, and he could hear feet constantly moving up and down the carpeted hallway. Whispers through the door. The sun shone too harshly through the glass, reflected off some unforgiving surface. It was too quiet, except for the whirring of machinery on the other side of the curtain. This was not a place of healing; it was where people came to die.

"It's okay," Eleanore murmured, reading his emotions. "I don't like hospitals either, but they're not too bad once you get used to them."

Loki thought about how much she must have gotten used to this very feeling of dread that sat, unexplained, deep in his stomach. Her mother had surely been in a place like this before. Eleanore would have visited, just as she would with Rogers, possibly staying overnight. Loki would not share that responsibility.

Satisfied with her poor attempt at comforting him, Eleanore was quietly walking toward the curtain. Loki followed her before she disappeared behind it to join the still shadows and hum of mortal medicine.

Rogers was asleep, his lips no longer blue at all. The tube from the ambulance was still stuck in his nose, connected to green tanks, and he had multiple cords holding him to a silver machine with a bag of blood and a bag of the saline hooked onto it. The machine was emitting the noises as it dispensed exact amounts of fluid, measured in drops that flowed through the clear tubes and into the sleeping man's body. Another one had cords that ran under his tunic, sending sharp indications onto a black screen with green lines and numbers. _80, 97, 98._ One of its cords also connected to a white clip that hung from the man's pointer finger. Rogers was pale still, almost as white as the sheets he lay against. The bed was propped up slightly so he could look around if he woke up. He no longer wore his sweated-through clothing, instead clad in a paper-thin tunic that looked absolutely useless for anything but a vague attempt at modesty. The blankets that covered him were better, thicker, a warm shade of brown.

Two identical cushioned chairs sat beside the bed, and a couch was in corner next to the window. Eleanore took the chair closest to Rogers' head, sitting cross-legged and making herself comfortable. She set her purse down beside her and pulled out her phone, looking up at Loki as if to say, _"What's the matter?_ "

It was this place, Loki would have answered her. But he would never admit to fear in front of a pitiful mortal wench, so he resolutely sat and held his head high like he was perched on Asgard's throne. If only that were true, or even possible.

Eleanore was texting again, Agent Hill this time. The questioning woman had heard about Rogers' trip to the hospital and was asking whether he could be moved to a SHIELD facility. Eleanore replied saying it was recommended to keep him still and resting, asked for his medical information to be sent over, finishing by promising to stay with him. She did not include Loki in her guarantee, which he found refreshing.

"Do you want to go home?" Eleanore breathed, just on the threshold of a mortal's hearing.

Loki considered it, knowing her definition of 'home' was different from his nonexistent one. "I will stay if you wish it." It would be miserable to stay alone in this horrible place. He gave her the option out of courtesy to Lydia, who would probably want him to be kinder to her only child.

"Can I see your phone, then?" Eleanore asked, the request clashing oddly with her previous question. Loki handed the technology over, and she hit her device against his. The screens lit up with arrows, and when she gave it back, his cell phone had a series of pictures in tiny squares on its screen. _Checkers, Chess, Four-In-A-Row, Solitaire, Gin, Poker._ The words were as small as the images they sat under.

"They're games. I thought you might like chess," Eleanore explained, still barely mouthing the words. "It's strategy"

Loki tapped the Chess icon and a screen popped up, offering to teach him the game. He went through something called a tutorial quickly, and picked up on the rules. When he was finished, he was offered the chance to play alone, or with a picture of Eleanore's face. She held up her own screen, showing his identification photo.

"If you want."

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, but pressed the button with her name anyway. If she was trying to show him up, he would disappoint her. There was a similar game on Asgard that he and Thor had played on rainy days. Loki always won.

Eleanore was _not_ trying to make fun of him. She was terrible, making the most obvious mistakes, falling into every trap Loki set without fail. "Are you even trying?" he asked, keeping his volume low and glancing at Rogers. He was still fast asleep.

"I am. That's the sad part." Eleanore grinned and huffed a chuckle. "I'm terrible at strategy. You can play against the computer if you want."

"Just think," Loki said. "Look, there. You should have moved the knight instead of the pawn."

"But I don't want the knight to die," Eleanore explained.

"It's called a necessary sacrifice," Loki insisted. "It does not even take my superior brain to accept it." Thor 'necessarily sacrificed' many of his pieces in the name of his so-called plans. It was the one principle he quoted often. Loki had always wondered how it would transfer to real battle.

"Superior brain…" She smiled widely at that, holding back giggles.

"If you doubt me, just look at the board." Loki grinned smugly. Most of her pieces were gone. He was set on capturing all of them that he could before winning, just to keep it interesting.

"I always lose at chess. You're not special for that," Eleanore informed him.

"That does not make your defeat any less humiliating," Loki said, striking the final blow.

"How will I ever face my mother again?" Eleanore asked sarcastically. "Want a granola bar?"

"Where do you keep getting these things?" Loki asked.

"The store. They come in a box of like eight. Good for snacking." Eleanore pulled two from her purse and handed him one. Peanut butter and chocolate. It was not intolerable, but Loki missed real food. The Chinese the night before had been atrocious. The smell alone had revolted him, and when he'd gamely tried some of the dishes, he'd had to strictly control his face to keep it from contorting. Salty and strange, slimy. The lettuce was bearable.

"We could try poker," Eleanore suggested, then froze, her eyes widening. She grabbed Rogers' hand just as it reached for the IV tubes in an impressive display of reflexive dexterity.

The man was only half-awake and fully confused. "The hell am I?" He raised his other arm to defend himself, squinting at Eleanore. Loki stood up, ready to snatch her out of the way if Rogers got violent. He was weakened, but he could still probably throw her out the window.

"Steve, it's me." Eleanore started, taking both his hands in hers so he couldn't pick at the wires running into and out of him. "Does your head hurt?"

"Yeah," the Captain responded, his voice cracking over the single syllable. He swallowed hard, and forced his eyes open. Closed them again with a wince. "Hospital?"

"Uh huh," Eleanore confirmed, picking up a plastic thing with flat symbols on it. She pressed the red one. "A doctor's going to come give you a checkup. I'll be here the whole time."

Loki wondered why that assurance was necessary to make Rogers relax, looking like a grateful youth. He _wanted_ to berate the noble, all-knowing Captain for putting them in this awful room that smelled of death. But Captain America was not lying there held to the earth like Lydia had been by mortal instruments of life giving. Steven Grant Rogers was. For some reason, knowing the man's full name made a difference. Loki could distinguish between the Captain and the man behind the cowl. He began to see why Eleanore treated the leader of their team with such concern and deference. Rogers could not be much older than she was, and he was expected to lead people twice his age, nearly. Many times his age, in fact. But underneath the stern efficiency lay the man who cared about keeping his knights alive just as much as he knew when to make a necessary sacrifice.

 _Where did that come from?_ Loki had not thought so… in-depth about someone else since long before his fall. He knew his family, he knew the palace servants, he knew the guards. Ever since his realization, Loki had been trying to understand himself, and to protect his wellbeing. Now, his mind reached out and made connections without invitation. He didn't like it.

"Could you close the blinds, please?" Eleanore asked him in a whisper. He did, but the lights in the ceiling turned on a moment later as Doctor Abano walked in.

"Are we awake?" she asked brightly. Too loud. Rogers blanched and turned his face toward Eleanore, bringing his non-punctured hand over his eyes. "That'll be the headache," Abano continued.

"Might you conduct this check later?" Loki asked at a lower volume.

"Sorry, it's best to get it done as early as possible. Okay Captain Rogers. Do you want your friends here or gone?" A nurse entered the door as she spoke, pushing a cart with a computer on it.

"Here," Rogers said. He took his hand from his eyes and forced them open. He looked at Eleanore and Loki, then faced the doctor with grim determination. "Sorry. I'm ready."

"It won't take long." Dr. Abano stepped forward on the other side of the bed. Eleanore stayed close, but Loki backed up to sit on the sofa. He could still see everything. "Just taking your numbers," the doctor wrote on a hard board, then handed it off to the nurse and took a small flashlight from her white coat's pocket. "Follow my finger," she said, ignoring Rogers' straining facial muscles as he avoided closing his eyes. "Looking good. Okay, close your eyes and lift your arms to the same height."

What followed was a series of inane tests and questions that Loki assumed were meant to assess whether Rogers had taken damage to his brain. _"How many fingers are on each of my hands? Now? What's my name tag say? Move the toes on your right foot. Now just the big toe. Now your whole leg. Who is this?_ (it was Eleanore) _What does the clock say?_ (twelve thirty) _What year is it?_

"Two thousand twelve," Rogers said, a hint of sadness creeping over his face before he wiped it away with his stoic expression.

"That's great. As far as I can tell, you're in perfect working order." The doctor patted Rogers' leg familiarly, and he stiffened ever so slightly. "We'll get you a CAT scan tomorrow, but just rest for today." She gave a last nod and walked out of the room.

"Do you feel like some lunch?" the nurse asked.

"No thank you," Rogers said politely.

"Okay honey. Sleep if you can. It'll help the headache go away." The nurse was better than the doctor, her words actually instilling a little bit of comfort. She left, shutting off the light.

Rogers sighed in relief as the room darkened. He opened his eyes more easily and looked up at Eleanore. "You can yell now, if you're going to."

"Thanks for the permission," she said, quirking a grin. "That was damn stupid, Steve."

"Sorry," the man apologized again, "I felt better walking there. It was when my heart sped up…" Rogers frowned, remembering. "I couldn't see anything, and I felt cold. It sounded like I was under water."

"You're not," Eleanore said quickly. Another avoidance Loki didn't understand. "Loki found you right after you collapsed. He got an ambulance to finally take you to the hospital. Which I know you hate, but at least they're giving you some blood now."

"What else?" Rogers asked suspiciously, looking up at the two bags.

"It's saline solution to keep you hydrated," Eleanore explained. "We've been with you. Ever since they got you stabilized."

"Thanks," Rogers said. He turned to Loki and held his gaze. "Thank you."

"Do not let it happen again," Loki said, his voice not conveying the coldness he wished it would. These abominable mortals were corrosive as waves on the sandy beach at Asgard's Ending Ocean. He stood, wanting to get away. "I will return to the apartment."

"Okay. Just be careful if you teleport, okay?" Eleanore held a hand out, stopping him a moment. "There are a lot of machines keeping people alive around here. Wouldn't want to short them out."

"I'll do my best." Loki walked out of the room, deciding if he was going to transport he'd do it outside. Once he got there, though, he just decided to walk. Crossed busy streets, ambled among humanity unnoticed. Even if he was wearing his full armor, he would likely be ignored as an oddity. There were many men and woman in strange costumes, some advertising a product, some just on their way somewhere. How had he let himself become so accustomed to this realm, to his captors, in such a short time? It was pathetic. He was _feeling_ for them. Sympathy, surprise, humor. Lydia had started it, obviously, but Loki had let it continue. Couldn't let himself be alone any longer, when alone was how he'd once thrived. It was surest sign that the mortal's weakness was rubbing off on him, tarnishing the person he once was.

He let himself into the apartment with a flick of his wrist and a bit of power. Everything was quiet, the cat and dragon asleep on the couch, the traffic slowing with the midday lull. He ignored the other beings and went straight into his bedroom. _My cell_ , he reminded himself. The whole realm was a prison, with Heimdall as a constant guard and Asgard as an eternal threat and judge.

But how could he remember that all the time, when this place often felt more peaceful than even the royal palace? Even during battle he was more sure of himself, somehow. Magic, an intrinsic part of his being, was completely approved of, even encouraged. He allowed himself liberties of speech and action on this realm that he never did anywhere else. No longer the prince, he was a person, and what kind he did not know. He was letting himself be influenced by the people around him, which was unacceptable. The people around him were his captors. The bracelet on his wrist was a binding chain.

He absently played with the metal, warmed to the temperature of his skin. The same as the day it was placed there. A sign of servitude and penance.

The cat entered his room, pushing through the partially-open door and sitting at his feet. It looked up at him with its strange green eyes. Asgard did not have cats. Asgard's people did not often have pets, and those who did were considered eccentric. Just like magic users. Other realms' inhabitants welcomed dumb animals into their homes as a matter of course, but Asgard was clean, vibrant, bright. Animals would ruin that. Loki picked up the cat and stroked its soft fur as it settled in the crook of his arm. It was actually a very hygienic little beast. It just wanted a bit of love, a lot of food, and to dash about the floor chasing everything it could bat around. Loki liked watching it play, and he even laughed at its wild-eyed antics when no one could see.

 _Try to enjoy the journey instead of only longing for the destination._ Lydia's words rang more true than Loki liked. He was on a journey with an unclear destination. Yes, he would be set free someday, and then what? And what until then?

 _What more than that?_ He kept coming back to that phrase for some reason. He supposed it was because he wanted to know what more he was, if he was more than a monster disguised as a prince, now masquerading as an Avenger. Rogers was more than his title, as the drawings and video gaming and wry sense of self-deprecating humor revealed. He had more depth than Loki even knew, but that Eleanore seemed familiar with. Hidden fears, past experiences. Mortal lives were shorter than his had been, but they were just as complicated.

That was what had connected him to them, he realized. Discovering their personalities. Their quirks and strangeness, their acceptance of each other. He wanted that acceptance, he could admit that, but not from them and not under these circumstances. Everyone wanted acceptance. When humans found it, they banded together, called each other family. Some, like his captors, welcomed others into their circle.

Was that so awful? Not for them. They could band together all they wanted; their lives were ultimately meaningless. Loki was a creature of the fates and stars, and he would last longer than they. His impact was questionable, but he'd be in the history books, at least, as the prince who'd gone mad and tried to end another realm. Was that what he wanted? To be remembered? For causing death and destruction?

His cell phone vibrated with a text message from Eleanore. _"There's a black and gray bag right next to my med pack under my bed. If you come back today, could you please bring it? If you don't want to, please send it with Jet. He can find me. -Eleanore"_

Loki stared at the white box with the blinking black line that awaited his response. Did he want to go back? Before he could decide, another text appeared.

" _Did you get back okay? I'll probably stay overnight here. There's leftover chicken casserole in the fridge if you want it. Steve's sleeping on and off."_

Loki could reply to that. _"I am in the apartment."_ He paused typing, thought about it, then continued, _"I will deliver your bag within the day."_ He sent the message and put the phone in his pocket. The cat saw the motion and reached out from his arm, stretching its toes to catch his sleeve.

"Stop that," Loki commanded, placing the fiend on his bed and walking out of the room. He heard the _thump_ as Charlie jumped down and followed him into Eleanore's room. The gray and black bag was exactly where she said it was, under her unmade bed. He pulled it out, and a strange-looking black book with clear plastic pages came with it, attached to the strap. Inscribed in gold letters on the front were the words, _"For my wonderful daughter. Love, Mom."_

Loki set the book aside. He did not need Eleanore to be 'personified' any more in his mind. It was already happening far too quickly, anyway.

His phone went off again, this time with a call from an unknown number. "Hello?"

"Elle says she can't take a call right now," Lydia's voice was stretched thin and tinny over the distance and signal. "Could you tell me what happened?"

Loki sighed, transporting through the air and eliciting an exclamation of "God… bless America," from the woman.

"I tell stories better in person," he explained, seating himself in his accustomed chair and setting Eleanore's bag on the ground. "I will be brief. I have to deliver this."

"That's nice of you," Lydia said, hanging up her phone and inspecting him with an experienced air. "You were nicer to Elle yesterday, too. Are things going better?"

"Did you not ask me to explain a certain series of events?" Loki evaded.

"Sure. Why can't Steve stay out of trouble?"

"That is beyond my purview," Loki shook his head. He quickly related the events of the morning, including Eleanore's coffee with her father. "You married a mutant-hater."

"Mutants, Muslims, women sometimes. He hates everything," Lydia rolled her eyes. "Which is why the irony of his amazing mutant daughter is so rich."

"That is one point of view," Loki agreed, smiling. He stood with a sigh, "I suppose I should find that child of yours."

"Is she okay? Sometimes seeing him makes her tense." Lydia stood with Loki, then walked to the little kitchen area.

"As far as I can tell, she is more concerned with the Captain's condition," Loki lied. Eleanore had been more than 'tense' the night before, and upon finding Loki in the hospital. He did not wish to describe her in detail, though, and she was unlikely to be in danger from her stress.

Lydia got into a cupboard and pulled a bottle of something red out, tossing it to Loki. "Here, she likes that kind of water. Do you want one?"

"No, thank you. I shall be on my way." He stowed the bottle in the bag and nodded, transporting away before she could delay him further with talk of her 'amazing' child. He landed on the sidewalk outside the hospital. Braced himself and walked through the doors. This was still making an effort.

 _ **A/N: So, I'm not trying to keep Steve incapacitated, but he doesn't listen very well to orders for self-preservation. At least now he's finally in the hospital, getting help from real doctors. Even if he (understandably) doesn't trust them.**_

 **PrimeReader:** _ **Thank you for the anniversary congratulations! I'm glad you like Loki's progress. As you can see from this, he's still confused, but he's gotten some good advice. Thanks for the review!**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **I liked the Steve and Loki bonding time as well. Thanks for your wonderful compliment! I actually learned a bit about detailing from**_ **ninepen's** _ **great story '**_ **Beneath'.** _ **I don't expect this one to last quite as long, but then, neither did she. Thanks for reviewing! I love hearing your (too kind) thoughts!**_

 **home3:** _ **Thank you for the congratulations! I just got done with summer classes this week, so I'm trying my best to update as much as I can before class starts (August 22nd). Unfortunately, I've developed a habit of writing longer chapters, so they take a while to put up. I don't have a set schedule for updates, but I should have another chapter up by Friday's midnight. During the school year, things will slow down a lot, so sorry in advance!**_

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thanks for reading! I've loved hearing from everyone this past update. Please keep rating and reviewing!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	21. Chapter 21: S Hiding Isn't So Bad

The hospital room was cold, but Steve's discomfort with that was offset by the blessed darkness that came with drawn shades. Eleanore's face was illuminated by her cell phone screen as she sat beside his bed, slumped in her chair, her feet reclined on top of the covers. Steve watched her text Loki, her mother, Darren, Hill, in between bouts of drowsy slumber.

The afternoon passed that way. Steve relaxed as he felt some warmth start circulating through his body as his blood was supplemented by someone else's. They gave him two bags, saying his oxygen wasn't where they wanted it to be. 'They' were the doctor and the nurses who came every hour and made Steve drink water and juice, eat some Jell-O, breathe deeply with the tubes in his nose. Because Eleanore was there, he let them change his IV, inject him with some kind of sedative. She made them explain everything as they did it, ignoring the annoyed looks she got from some of the tired-looking nurses. Talked to the SHIELD guards sent to stand outside his door.

Dr. Abano explained that Steve had been healing slowly, for some reason. Slowly for what he was supposed to be capable of, anyway. He was still down by four pints of blood when he'd been admitted, but they were reluctant to give him any more than two in case his body reacted badly. They'd keep him and monitor him for at least two days and scan him for any signs of poisoning and nutrient deficiency.

"You're staying here the full two days," Eleanore informed him sternly. Steve figured that was only fair, since she'd wanted him to come here in the first place and he'd just ended up causing more trouble. She went and shut the door, which the doctor always left open, and returned to pull the signal jammer from her purse. She turned it on. "Let me check something." She held up her hands, light shining along their veins, and placed one on Steve's neck where he'd been shot and one right over his heart. "Take regular breaths," she instructed him as her eyes suddenly lit up too until she closed them.

Steve couldn't feel anything but a vague tingling at first, from his head to his toes. Then it got warmer and stronger, and he started sweating again. "Elle—"

"There's still something in your body," she pressed harder on his chest, frowning lines across her forehead. "It's really stubborn. I need… time."

"Time indeed," Loki said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "And what manner of witchcraft are you attempting?"

"I missed it the other day," Eleanore replied, not opening her eyes. Steve felt like he was drowning in his own sweat, but he held still and stayed calm so his heart rate wouldn't spike and draw attention from the hospital staff.

"Missed what?" Loki asked, setting down a bag he'd brought in on the couch and coming to stand over the bed.

"It's like a self-replicating regeneration depressant," Elle said, finally standing back. She didn't look too tired yet, but Steve and Loki watched her cautiously. "I think it's gone now. Sorry, you must feel gross." She swept her hand over him, drawing the sweat off and into the sink. "Drink some more water."

"So there was still some of that… drug?" Steve gulped water down, trying to replenish what he'd lost.

"It must be part of their experimentation," Elle confirmed. "Something that stays in your system, gradually slowing down your body's healing. It was really hard to locate. I'll have to tell Bruce." She walked over to one of the cupboards and got a couple blankets down, spreading them over Steve. "Why didn't you say you were so cold?"

"Didn't come up," Steve said, feeling the effects of both the sedative and the healing taking a toll on his consciousness. He was warm, too, so that made him even sleepier. Which was bad because he still had some questions. "Loki, how did you find me?"

"I knew when you left your apartment," Loki answered. "I tracked you, knowing you were likely to do something stupid and dangerous." He glared at Steve for a moment before turning his back and moving the blinds with his finger to look out the window. "My life depends on your wellbeing. At least consider that before you attempt to die."

"I wasn't trying to die," Steve protested, looking to Eleanore for backup.

She put a hand on his now-covered shoulder. "You need to be more careful. I know you didn't mean for this to happen. Just try to rest, okay? We won't berate you anymore." That last was directed at Loki's back. The demigod didn't acknowledge it.

Steve laid back and let his mind wander as Eleanore settled back onto her phone, this time scrolling through the news. Loki kept looking out the window.

Steve knew he owed his life to both of them, several times over. But he was more experienced than Eleanore, at least. Maybe not Loki, although he doubted the thousand-year-old man had seen war. Still, they were both right. Steve hadn't been as careful as he should have. He hadn't considered how his death would affect anyone else, and he hadn't even thought about Loki dying if he did. He would think about it in the future, but he didn't know if he could keep from jumping on grenades if it would save the rest of the team or civilians or whoever. Asgard should really take him off Loki-watch and just let Eleanore handle it. Or Elle and Darren. Anyone but Steve. All he wanted to do was protect his team and his people, no matter what that meant for him. His thoughts trailed into deeper waters and his eyes drifted closed. Soon he was asleep.

When he woke up, Elle's head was leaning on the bed right next to his hand, bent over from the chair pulled close to the plastic-metal railing. It was dark out. Steve felt fully awake, finally, and the sedatives had kept dreams away. Loki was… he looked around. Gone. Not in the room, anyway.

"Elle," Steve said, not liking the angle her neck and back were at. She didn't stir at the sound of his voice. "Eleanore. Wake up."

"Fuck off," she mumbled, "I'm tired."

Steve had heard her curse before, so it was more amusing than shocking. He grinned and tried again. "No, come on. Just go to the couch."

"Loki's there." She didn't raise her head, but she sounded more awake.

Steve checked again and found no one. "No he's not. Here, take a blanket and go lie down." He'd tell her to go home, but driving wasn't a good idea in her condition at two AM.

"Loki's gone?" She actually woke up for that, looking around and finally focusing on Steve. He couldn't see much besides dark eyes and a silhouette of curling hair falling from a hair band. She reached down and picked her phone up off the floor. "Two?"

"You been out long?" Steve asked, watching her scroll through messages until she found one from Loki. _"I have returned to the apartment."_ It was from a few hours before, and it made Eleanore sigh with relief.

"Four hours, I guess," she said, stretching her arms over her head. There were various popping sounds until she finally stopped and refocused. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Steve said. "A lot better, actually." He gave a small grin, "You can say, 'I told you so,' whenever you feel like it."

"I don't think I need to, in this case," she smiled back. Her phone rang, its chime loud in the quiet room. Elle looked confusedly at the contact name. _Alan Hansen._ She glanced apologetically at Steve, "Sorry, this might be important. My cousin." Steve nodded, and she pressed the answer key. "Alan?"

" _Hey,"_ a deep voice said through the speaker at Elle's ear. _"The Jarvis guy said you were awake."_

"Is something wrong?" Elle sat back in the chair, tucking her feet under her. She didn't look too worried. Yet. Steve listened with interest as she talked to the younger cousin she'd once described as a 'kind-hearted jerk.'

" _No."_ The kid paused, his voice gruff. Almost pouting. _"What's being an Avenger like?"_

"You're mad about that? I called your mom the other day," Elle laughed. "You were playing video games."

" _Could've called me,"_ the voice protested. _"So tell me what it's like. Or just come visit."_

"I will this summer," Elle promised. "Shouldn't you be asleep, though? Are you keeping Zeph up?" Zephaniah was her other cousin. He and Alan were unexpected twins, and Eleanore's aunt had named them A and Z names, saying she wasn't having any more kids.

" _He's got earphones in. Can you bring Tony Stark for a visit sometime? Or Hulk?_ "

"Maybe you could just be satisfied with me," Elle suggested mirthfully. "Wait, Alan. You haven't told anyone else, have you?"

" _No, but it sucks you won't let me. No one cares about mutants,"_ Alan grumbled.

"Just give me some time. What's going on with you? How's school?"

" _I might start for football next Fall. Coach says if I keep up with weights over the summer I'll actually be big enough to hit Seniors from the other teams. And before you even ask, my grades are fine."_

"Mind reader," Elle chuckled. "What constitutes 'fine'?" Steve grinned at the authority that she naturally assumed, like a big sister. He supposed that was what she was, having grown up with her cousins in the same house. Close as siblings. Steve had always kind of wanted one, a brother or sister, it didn't matter. But he'd always envisioned being the older one. He wondered what it was actually like. Bucky had been close, but he had two wonderful parents of his own.

" _I got the damn good student discount for car insurance,"_ Alan groused. _"Math isn't going great, though. You could tutor me on Boysenomics."_

"I didn't do well with her, either," Elle grimaced sympathetically. "But she likes jocks. What's your problem?"

" _I'm a smartass,"_ Alan said honestly. Steve snickered silently. _"I mouth off when she gets crabby. Especially when she's a bitch to Zeph."_

"Don't refer to women that way," Elle said patiently. "But why is she mean to Zeph?"

" _He asks too many questions. Finds different ways to do things. Exactly like you,"_ Alan said. _"But enough about that. Tell me about fighting aliens."_

"It was loud," Elle started, sitting forward and looking at Steve, shrugging. He shrugged back. How did you describe battle to a kid? "There was a lot of screaming, lots of explosions."

" _I saw you killing them,"_ Alan said, sounding more excited. _"Were they tough? What were their weapons like?"_

"I healed people more than I fought. Got them to safety," Elle protested. "The media just showed the fighting."

" _Was it scary?"_ Alan asked.

"Of course it was. There was a hole in the sky, and we didn't know how to stop it. We just kept fighting, even when we were exhausted." Steve nodded affirmation as Elle talked about it. The futility they'd felt was accurate. Those things just kept coming. And those giant ships took out buildings like they weren't even there. It had taken half their team to take those down, while the other half was fighting on the ground against increasingly overwhelming odds. "… their weapons burned people right up. If someone got shot, that was it." Elle's voice was sad.

" _That sounds decidedly less cool than the news described it,"_ a new voice, slightly clearer and quieter, said through the speaker. It was the other twin, Zephaniah. Elle had spoken animatedly about his scientific potential, and Darren had asked after him once, inquiring when he'd be able to bring the twins to the Tower for a visit. Elle had said Alan might need a little more time to mature so he didn't break things when he was bored.

"I wondered if you'd wake up for the story," Elle said, smiling brightly. "Did you hear I got a cat?"

" _And a superhero neighbor,"_ Zephaniah said. _"What's that like?"_

"Well, he's nicer than the crabby couple who lived there before." She looked at Steve and winked. He rolled his eyes. "And Charlie, the cat, is amazing. He's just a little baby."

After that, she talked about her graduation and classes ending (the boys weren't that interested), asked about anyone selling a newer SUV in their area (they knew a couple people), and talking about the training she was planning on doing to get stronger.

" _Why are you even on the team?"_ Alan asked as the hour drew closer to three. _"You're weaker than Captain America, and he's like—"_

"Alan, shut up before you say something stupid," Elle advised. Steve frowned at the boy's obvious critique of him. Was he that useless, even to the public?

" _I'm just saying, Iron Man is stronger— Zeph, stop it."_ There was a thump, and scuffling started over the speaker.

"Both of you stop, before your mom finds you still awake," Elle said sternly. "And Alan, you don't know what you're talking about." She took the phone away from her ear and held her hand over the speaker. "Sorry, Steve. He's a stupid teenager."

"It's fine," Steve said. And it was. The opinion of a kid who'd never met him was a lot less important than the trust of his team, which he had.

" _Is someone there? Is Darren?"_ Zeph asked. _"Can I talk to him about an invention idea I have?"_

"I'll give you his number, but he's not here." Elle went back to talking to them, frowning. "What's your idea?"

" _I heard a voice,"_ Alan pressed. _"We know you guys sleep together. Just put him on the phone."_

"Darren's not here, you little twerp," Elle scolded. She looked at Steve and raised an eyebrow. Covered the microphone again and whispered, "Do you mind if I tell them?"

"Go ahead." Steve wanted to see what kind of reaction they'd have.

" _Who the hell is that?"_ Alan demanded, apparently still able to hear Steve's tones.

"It's Steve. Captain America." Elle paused, listening to the silence on the other end. "Did you faint?"

" _You're hanging out with Captain America at three in the morning?"_ Alan asked skeptically.

"Yes, I am." Elle thankfully left Steve's hospitalization out of her explanation. "We're neighbors."

" _Are you and Darren still a thing?"_

" _Shut up Alan, of course they are."_

Steve had to grin at the two different personalities that came through the speaker. Zeph was calm and thoughtful, a lot like Darren and Bruce and Loki on a good day. He still got exasperated with his brother, though. Alan was brash and said what he thought before considering other options. Steve could compare both of them to Eleanore's different ways of acting. They went on and on about how Eleanore should bring him to farm, Zephaniah because he wanted to see Steve's shield (still the only sample of vibranium in existence), and Alan because he wanted to wrestle with Captain America.

"I'm really sorry about that," Elle said after the call ended. "You don't have to worry about meeting them anytime soon."

"I wouldn't mind. They sound… nice." Steve wouldn't insult her family, and they _were_ nice. Alan was just a kid, fifteen years-old. He'd grow up. Too soon, if Steve had any experience.

"They're young," Elle echoed his thoughts. "But they don't mean any harm. Zeph does need to come see the Tower. It's his dream." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It never seems like a good time, though. Maybe I'll buy a car and have them road trip it out here."

"Maybe you could go visit them instead," Maria Hill suggested, entering the room so quietly she made both of them jump.

"Why's that?" Elle asked, moving so Hill could sit down in the other chair by the bed.

"The leader of that terrorist group, Yumruk, was spotted in DC a couple hours ago." Hill got right to business. Steve felt his chest clench, and he watched as she pulled a hologram up from the tablet she carried. It showed the guy all right, walking through an airport and talking on a cell phone. "We think he's here for you, Steve. We want to get you guys out of here tonight, all three of you. Four, with the dragon."

"Steve's got another two days of bed rest," Elle protested. "And I'm taking my cat. And my family doesn't know I'm coming. And what about my mom?"

"You can go by car," Hill said, her tone brooking no argument. "That'll give them time to prepare. Steve can rest on the ride. And we put more security around her building as soon as we found the guy."

"What if I don't want to go into hiding?" Steve challenged. He didn't like being sent around just to sit like a lump while someone was specifically looking to fight him. Sure he was weak, but the other guy wasn't that strong. That Steve knew of. Again, he needed more information.

"This is less about what you want, and more about what will keep you safe," Hill said, staring him down. "Eleanore, Loki, and Clint pulled you out with great personal risk. We think this guy's part of something bigger now. We want to watch him and find out what, and we can't do that in good conscience with you here in danger. Clint and Natasha are out on extended trips, so all that's left of the team right now are the Starks and Bruce. If things get too bad, we'll call you back in, but SHIELD's going to try to handle it first."

"I think she has a point, Steve," Elle said reluctantly. "But we won't go unless you're okay with it."

Steve made himself think about it, and what was best for the team. SHIELD had been handling threats like this since long before he'd woken up, so they'd probably take care of it just fine. Meanwhile, Elle could keep an eye on him and Loki easily, as she couldn't with him laid up in the hospital. And seeing her family would be good for her. She'd said she hadn't been back for years, and Steve guessed Lydia's illness had kept her around, worrying. Loki was behaving much more cordially, so maybe spending time in nature would loosen him up even more. There was no real reason _not_ to go, except… "What if they attack the farm instead?"

"We'll have operatives stationed nearby," Hill assured him. "You won't see them, but they'll be around."

Steve sighed, wondering if he would be able to dress himself. At least he'd gotten about six hours of sleep. He felt wide awake. "We're leaving now?"

"A couple agents are at your apartments, packing bags and getting Loki and Jet." Hill pulled out her phone and started texting. "I told them to bring the cat, too. Anything else?"

"My shield," Steve said, thinking of Zeph. He wanted it anyway, but the kid could examine it all he wanted. Darren said vibranium melted at four thousand degrees Kelvin, which was higher than carbon, so no farm kid was going to damage it. Steve threw it around enough that it would have broken by now if it was going to. "Elle's med pack and suit. Our weapons." If there was an emergency, they should be as prepared as possible.

"If you are going to send strangers to wake me," Loki's voice materialized almost before he did, appearing fully armored in the room in an instant, "at least tell them to use caution."

"Did you hurt anyone?" Hill asked, unimpressed.

"Fortunately for you, my mind is even faster than my reflexes." Loki glared at her. He turned to Eleanore and Steve, holding out a bundle of cloth. "They asked me to deliver some clothes for the noble Captain." He was clearly in a bad mood from being woken up in the middle of the night.

"Thanks," Steve said, trying to change his focus. He took the clothes and held onto them. "Did they tell you where we're going?"

"Yes." Loki raised an eyebrow at Elle, "More of your delightful relatives."

"They _are_ delightful, thank you." She smiled at him and stood, popping even more joints. "You probably don't need armor for a car ride."

"I was advised to be wary until we have left this city behind," Loki retorted.

"Okay, okay," She picked up her go-bag and went into the bathroom attached to Steve's room.

"We'll wait behind the curtain if you want to get dressed," Hill looked at Loki, who stepped back with her as she closed Steve's bed into a little island complete with dark waves as air stirred the thin material.

Steve sat up, starting with his pants and underwear because he didn't think it would be wise to rip the IV out of his hand. Would he be taking that with them? He hoped not. He felt a lot stronger, and his head wasn't as light as he bent to put his socks on under blue jeans. The t-shirt Loki had given him was a nicer gray v-neck, soft and light. It would be comfortable, if he could figure out how to put it on while still hooked to the machine.

"Here, honey." Nurse Roccio came around the curtain with some cotton patches and tape in her hands. "Let me see that one, yeah." She stopped the IV machine and then pulled the needles from Steve's hand, pressing the cotton over it and taping it up. "Don't take these off for a day or so, okay? Don't want to lose more blood."

"Thanks," Steve said gratefully. He put his shirt on and took a few experimental steps. It felt fine. Normal for his post-serum body. When he'd collapsed earlier, his last thought had been of his body reverting to his weak state, when he couldn't protect anyone. He was still worried about it, in the back of his mind. It was irrational, but he couldn't help it.

"You're welcome," Nurse Roccio said, pulling the curtain away when Steve was fully dressed. He sat in one of the bedside chairs and tied his shoes as an agent entered and whispered something in Hill's ear.

"Car's waiting outside," she said.

Elle emerged from the bathroom wearing a new outfit, hair pulled back in a bun. She looked alert and happy, probably relieved to be getting out of the hospital.

Steve used the restroom, and then followed Hill down to a side entrance of the building where a couple of large, black SUVs were parked. Charlie peeked out the window of one, and Jet lay in the very back seat, taking up the whole area proudly.

"Do you want to ride with us or fly?" Elle asked him. He just looked at her and laid his head in his paws. That was enough answer for Steve.

"Shotgun," Loki claimed, opening the passenger door and depositing Charlie in the back seat.

Hill almost cracked a smile at that. "We'll update you on our progress. Be prepared to stay a week or more, though. We want to get to the bottom of this." She shook Steve's hand and Elle gave her a hug. "Have fun."

"You too," Elle said, walking around to the driver's side.

Steve pulled himself into the middle set of seats, and Charlie jumped in his lap immediately, curling up and hugging his left arm. He could see some bags lining the floor behind the middle row of two seats, his shield right with them. Elle's suit was there, too, and Jet's saddle.

" _Please fasten your seatbelts,"_ the car said in a male non-Jarvis voice.

"Is this self-driving?" Elle asked, punching some buttons on the touchscreen on the center console.

" _Your destination is pre-set. Please buckle your seatbelts."_

"Guess so," Steve said, following the instructions. Once they'd all strapped themselves in, the car started driving away, getting onto the interstate and picking up speed quickly.

"That's nice," Elle said. "I hate driving all the way back home."

"Keep your head turned," Steve told her. "At least til we get out of DC." If they were going to run, they were going to do it right. He turned away from the window as well, wary of any cameras that might catch them.

The ride was smooth, and the car sped anywhere from five to ten miles per hour over the speed limit. Once they got out of the city, it went even faster, apparently not worried about attracting attention from any police officers. Steve wondered if law enforcement was used to government vehicles speeding around like they owned the place. At least they'd get there faster.

Everyone relaxed noticeably once they left DC far behind. Steve stopped looking behind them as much, confident no one was following them in the wane early morning traffic. Loki disappeared his armor and wore casual Earth clothes instead. Elle waited until it was five AM before she called her aunt, reporting their impending visit and asking about the spare bedrooms in the house. Apparently it was a fairly large home, built by her grandparents to host both their daughters and their families over the holidays. Steve wondered if the two older people had liked having their children and grandchildren living with them in the end. The way Eleanore and Lydia had talked about them, he thought they had. If the rest of the family were anything like Elle's Aunt June, who sounded thrilled at the prospect of her visit, they were all very close-knit.

"Will the lilacs be blooming?" he asked when Elle hung up the phone.

She turned with a bright smile and wide, excited eyes. "They should be. Spring comes a little later there." For the next couple of hours, she listed facts about her home, hometown, friends from school. She'd pay them a visit, and her old teachers. Not only would the lilacs be blooming, but also the flower garden that got set up in April just outside the house's big picture window. There would probably be work to do on the farm: June had mentioned something about fence and barn repair. Lawn mowing was a weekly occupation, if not more once the weather warmed up. The twins would be done with school soon, but they'd continue fitness sessions for a few hours every day. They'd be so excited to meet Steve and Loki. "If Alan tries to fight you, just please don't hurt him." There were stands of trees where Jet could stretch out in the sun and rest undetected by anything but cows. Darren had installed concealment tech long ago there, they just needed to be turned on. Zephaniah had built a small forge recently out of scavenged fire bricks and charcoal. He and Alan were collecting metal and 'green sand' to cast things like low-quality swords, knives, even engine parts for one of their junker vehicles. Elle's birthday present to them had been a bellows for stoking the flames. Darren's had been aluminum and iron ingots for experimentation.

Steve listened to all this with a smile, noting how excited she was. Loki even seemed amused when Elle went on about nighttime campfires and 'bullshit sessions' that were tradition after a long day of work. Steve had never been to a farm, unless he counted the burnt countrysides during the War, which he didn't. He was sure he'd like it, just because of the potential for peace and quiet. He was worried he wouldn't fit in because he was still so used to being called for battle at all hours. What if he got bored, or what if he and Loki got recognized in the small town as Avengers and Elle's cover was blown? She was just Eleanore Engman, normal human there.

 _Enough worrying,_ he told himself, glancing back again. They'd been on an empty stretch of road for about fifteen minutes, but now they were catching up to some traffic as they got closer to Pittsburgh.

"Wow, I talked for a long time." Elle wound down and took some deep breaths.

"I will not deny such a truth," Loki joked, looking up from his book he'd pulled out once the sun started rising.

"It's fine," Steve assured her. "I feel like I know the place already."

"Does anyone need to stop?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. They were through Pittsburgh, but there were still lots of gas stations and rest stops along the way. "Steve, you should eat."

"Sounds good, actually," Steve agreed. His stomach was grumbling with the first signs of real hunger. He hadn't eaten much the day before, and his body needed food almost as often as Darren wanted to eat.

They stopped and filled the car with gas, even though it wasn't even a quarter empty. Stark-designed, very efficient. Steve bought a breakfast pizza, which they all ate standing up next to a table outside a gas station, letting Charlie run around on his leash and harness and Jet stretch in the grass. It was really good. Then they loaded up on water and snacks, used the restrooms again, and got back on the road. Being on the move early in the morning was energizing.

"Shotgun," Steve said, grinning at Loki's glare.

"I can sit in the back," Elle offered. "The car drives itself. Steve, you might want to be in the driver's seat, in case something happens."

"Sure." Steve could have sworn he saw Loki smirk at him as he climbed back into the passenger seat and slid the chair all the way back. Elle sat behind Steve, and he had plenty of leg room without sliding back too much. It really was nice to let the car drive itself. Steve took the wheel for a while, just to get used to the automatic gears, then he let the machine take over again.

That stretch of travel lasted six hours. Elle fell asleep curled up with Charlie for two of them, then woke up and put some games on Steve's phone. Loki challenged him to a virtual chess match, and Steve gave him a run for his money before admitting defeat an hour later. Loki actually looked impressed, but he didn't comment, other than a smug smirk when Steve's last pieces fell over in a sparkling animation. Then they all played virtual poker, and Loki won again and again until Elle faked him out and made him lose half his money.

"Luck," he growled, but he wasn't angry.

"Skill," Elle countered, laughing. "And luck."

Steve did better in the games following those. He learned his own tells, although Loki proclaimed him a terrible liar again. Elle asked the car to play some old jazz, and it did, providing a nice change as they all grew bored with travel. The afternoon wore on, and the land transformed from pastureland to fields and back. Cities were just places to avoid, and they wore hats whenever they had to go somewhere with a camera. They played through every game on their phones, then tried some real-life ones. The Alphabet Game, Yellow Car, Would You Rather. Steve would rather run through a wall of fire than swim in a muddy lake (he'd done both before, though, so it wasn't a fair question). Elle would rather live in New Zealand than Canada. Loki would rather ride a horse than a chariot pulled by dragons (he could tell what a horse would do, thank you). Elle was best at spotting first-lettered objects, but Loki won when they switched to only using signs. He could see farther. Steve called foul, which actually made the demigod laugh and playfully mock his inferior perceptions. Steve just chuckled and gave up the argument, trying harder to win instead. He still lost. Loki was pleased with himself.

Another quick stop and several phone calls from Elle's aunt and uncle and mother later (Lydia was _very_ happy Eleanore was finally visiting their old home again), and they were crossing the Iowa-Illinois border. They still had to cover most of the state to get to Elle's home town of Lilledanske, which meant four more hours, but Steve felt like they were in the home stretch. Elle got even more excited, pointing familiar landmarks out, talking about family trips taken for football games and some sort of bike ride across the state she'd done for a fundraiser in high school. "My tire went flat in this town, and a nice cowboy-hat guy helped me find a new tube." "My cousins bought some cows from a farm around here." "This is where my mom went to college." "Zeph broke his arm swinging into that lake on a dare… I dared him." There was less traffic as they went along in the evening sunlight, even as they went through the capitol, Des Moines.

"The monks," Steve muttered. They were only an hour away now, traveling into the sunset.

"You know French?" Elle asked. Steve took up most of the rest of the trip describing his time in France and Jacques' unique way of teaching. If Steve said something wrong, he had to do one hundred push-ups. This almost always led to a competition, and even Peggy had joined in once with a record of one hundred and three push-ups, one-armed.

They got closer, with signs for Lilledanske appearing along the interstate. Twenty miles, ten, seven miles from this exit. The car turned onto a bumpy local highway, its map showing their destination address only four miles away. Steve was hungry, having only snacked since a lunch at Subway, where they'd taken an outside picnic table and let Charlie and Jet out one more time before the final stint of driving. He was also feeling weary, even down to his muscles. Elle had made him drink tons of water, but he was still thirsty, an effect of his body's now-accelerated regeneration. Elle was bouncing in her seat, grinning from ear to ear, and Charlie jumped onto the floor to get away from her excitement. Loki just looked around impassively at everything. Steve looked out at the unfamiliar fields where tiny plants were just starting to green and couldn't imagine growing up somewhere so open. There weren't that many trees, just hills rolling and grasses waving in the light from the dying sun. It was nine thirty at night, and dusk was filling the valleys with darkness that gradually traveled up their sides to meet the rainbow-tinted sky.

One mile away from the farm, they turned onto a gravel road. The car slowed down, and after all day doing eighty on the interstate, it felt like crawling. Finally, they entered a long driveway and climbed a shallow incline lined with lilacs until the white house from Elle's pictures appeared, every window shining with light.

" _You have arrived,"_ the vehicle informed them, parking itself next to a three-car garage. The doors unlocked, and Elle bolted immediately, shoving Charlie into Loki's hands and dashing over the multicolored rocks of the driveway to meet the two tall teenagers who ran out the house's main door.

"No wonder Mom cooked so much food!" one of them yelled, swinging Elle around like a rag doll and throwing her to his brother. Steve could already tell which was which, as the second boy caught her and greeted her more quietly with just as big of a hug.

"She didn't tell you?" Elle laughed up at Zephaniah, then turned as Alan walked over to the car and stuck out his hand. "Guys, meet Steve and Loki. Steve and Loki, meet Alan and Zephaniah Hansen."

Steve shook Alan's hand, then watched Loki out of the corner of his eye. The demigod had taken a few bags on his shoulders, and returned the handshake with a cordial smile and greeting. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

Well, that was a relief. Steve went to get some of the stuff, climbing into the back seat as Jet climbed out and grabbing his shield and go-bag, which was packed full to bursting. He wondered if his suit was in there, or if he had one at all. _Here's hoping._

"I can take your bag," Zephaniah offered, shouldering the pack Steve handed him. Alan had Elle's bags, and he was making fun of her for bringing so much stuff.

"Planning on moving back home?" he asked, fingering Jet's saddle curiously.

"Not right now," Elle took Charlie off Loki's hands and picked up her backpack from college. She hefted it and met Steve's eyes. "I think this has our computers and stuff."

'And stuff' hopefully meant his sketching supplies. Steve wasn't sure how he felt about unknown SHIELD agents going through his belongings. But there was no time to figure it out because their group was heading toward the house, where a man and a woman stood in the light cast by the open door.

June Hansen looked a lot like her sister and niece, with long dark hair, smiling brown eyes, and a warm grin. Elle's hair fell in the middle of the curly spectrum between her mother's straight and her aunt's coiled locks. "Nice to meet you, Steve." She was holding a brown and white spotted dog by the collar.

"Ma'am," he said, feeling a little out of breath from _carrying a stupid bag_. "Thank you for having us."

"We're proud to," said Coleman, her husband. He was a big man with a deep voice, light blondish gray hair, and blue eyes. He and June were both smiling widely as Elle finally reached the house. "Come on in! We kept supper for you."

"It took _forever_ ," Alan added, following Steve into the house. The entryway was actually part laundry room, part dog kennel, part pantry. White linoleum floors with colorful cloth rugs, light blue walls, wooden cabinets with glass doors that showcased jellies, canned vegetables, something that looked like salsa, store-bought foodstuffs like chips. Cat food and a little bowl of water sat on top of the dog kennel, and a litter box sat behind it. A big silver freezer sat next to a door that led to another single-car garage. A white tile counter held a vase of lilacs, which Elle stopped to inhale for a good ten seconds before moving on into the main house.

They all shuffled into the white tile floor, wooden countertop kitchen with the normal after-travel rustling of bags and murmurs. Elle led the way, after a moment, into the open dining room, into the gray-carpeted living room with a stone fireplace that reached up to the high, slanted ceiling. They trekked up a wooden staircase into a loft area with a bedroom to one side and a hall with more rooms to the other.

"This is why we had to clean the spare rooms out today, too," Alan commented. "Mom said it was spring cleaning."

"She didn't tell me you didn't know," Eleanore told him. "Steve, Loki, your rooms are over here." She moved into the hallway, putting the cat down at last to dash around the huge space. The entire upstairs was half the size of the main floor, and it was at least twice the size of Eleanore's entire apartment. "Steve," Elle opened the first door on the left, "and Loki," the one next to that. Steve found a double bed inside with a dresser, closet, and a view up the hill behind the house. He put his bag and shield down, then accepted his other bag from Zephaniah, who eyed his shield with longing.

"Here." Steve handed it over, watching as the boy's eyes lit up.

"Thanks," Zeph said reverently, hefting the shield and tapping it with his fingernails. The twins weren't identical, they only sounded similar on the phone. Alan was bigger, solid bulk and muscle with hair that rode the border between brown and auburn. Zephaniah had curls darker than his mother's, with bright blue eyes like his dad. He was thinner, a little smaller than Darren, but Steve could see some muscle under his loose t-shirt. He and Alan shared Eleanore's smile, and they were both taller than she was even though they were four years younger. Zephaniah came up to Steve's chin, while the top of Alan's head hit his cheek.

"It's no problem," Steve said, meeting Eleanore, Loki, and Alan in the hallway.

"Zeph, let's go throw stuff at it!" Alan exclaimed, rapping the shield with his knuckles.

"Tomorrow," Elle said sternly, taking her louder cousin by the arm and leading him toward the stairs. "Let's have supper first."

"Okay," Alan agreed happily, accepting her authority just as easily as he had over the phone.

"What's the paint made of?" Zeph asked Steve quietly as they descended the stairs.

"It's titanium dioxide," Steve said. He knew that much. He knew a lot about his shield, actually. First Howard had explained vibranium's qualities back in the forties, and then Darren had explained its refurbishing. New arm grips, new paint, and the youngest Stark was working on a device that would call the shield back to Steve when he threw it wrong.

There were two more bedrooms on the main floor and one bathroom down a hallway off the dining room. The basement had a little gate to prevent people from falling down its stairs right next to the dining room, toward the living room. There was also a lace curtain drawn over it that matched the kitchen windows and the double doors that led onto a large back deck that looked out over the valley.

Supper turned out to be roast beef, potatoes, and carrots all cooked in a large crock pot set on the kitchen's large island. Steve saw where Elle and/or Lydia had come up with their barstools for their tiny island at home, from the backed wooden ones here. Everyone dished up and sat around the ovular wooden table. Steve and Loki were on one side while Eleanore sat on a bench between her two cousins, who both tried their hardest to steal food from time to time. June and Coleman sat at opposite ends, watching the kids and talking quietly with their guests.

Coleman told Steve to call him Cole, and asked him about his experience since waking up, which was a refreshing change from being asked about the War. Steve described it as best he could, giving Eleanore and Darren a lot of credit for teaching him about modern tech and ways of life. Loki was telling June about his Avengers status, which he seemed to have accepted, and about living with Eleanore in Lydia's old room in the tiny apartment. He was surprisingly polite and kind to the older woman, even making jokes about Elle and Lydia that set her laughing.

The boys talked nonstop to Eleanore, catching her up on shared acquaintances, telling her about the class she would have graduated from if she hadn't left a year early. They asked question after detailed question about what being an Avenger was like, how she fought, what Jet did, how many new flying techniques she'd learned, what weapons Darren invented for her. She answered in between bites of food, and watched the cat as it tried to avoid the friendly dog. Jet was lying in the living room, completely stretched out after their cramped ride.

Steve was feeling more and more weary the later it got. That frustrated him because he could usually go for days without sleep. Elle had said his healing would wear him out because his body metabolized so quickly. He ate two helpings of food, trying to give himself more fuel. Cole stopped asking him questions, and Steve settled gratefully into eating, drinking lots of water, listening to the conversations around him. It was warm and nice. His only family had been his mother, so meals were typically much quieter. No grunting like when Elle got fed up with the boys and poked them both in the sides, no reprimands from June for the twins to behave, no clicking of the regular dog's nails on the floor. Steve thought its name was Dave, which was strange for a dog. It got tired of chasing Charlie around and sat between Steve and Cole, looking up at them with longing eyes.

"Don't feed him," Cole said. "He's a beggar, but his food bowl's full."

Steve grinned and scratched the dog's ears. There had been some nice curs in Europe. They followed the army camps, picking up scraps and befriending the men who fed them. Steve hadn't gotten attached, though.

"Wanna go have a fire?" Alan asked excitedly as the meal wound down.

Elle gave Steve the barest glance, then turned back to her cousin. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm exhausted from the drive."

"Oh, I'm sure you're just _exhausted_ ," Alan said, his voice going high and funny. Eleanore laughed at it. _Family joke,_ Steve guessed.

"It's your boys' bedtime anyway," June said. "You've got school tomorrow."

"Meh," Alan protested vaguely. He and Zeph picked up their plates, and everyone else's, and went into the kitchen to wash the dishes.

"Can I help with anything, ma'am?" Steve asked June as she rose to supervise the cleaning.

"You can go unpack," she suggested. "These two won't give you a moment's rest after their chores are done."

Steve smiled and went with Loki and Elle to the second floor, pulling his clothes out and arranging them in the top drawers of the dresser. Most of his clothing had been sent along, and it all fit in the slim compartments. _I still need to do some shopping._ His uniform was replaced, along with the knife gloves. He was thankful. The New York one was still hanging, ripped up, in his closet back home.

"How are you feeling now?" Elle asked from his doorway. Her bedroom was the one on the other side of the loft, right next to a bathroom. There was a bathroom across the hall from Steve as well, and the twins' large bedroom with a sturdy-looking bunk bed and two desks.

"Tired," Steve said honestly. "But nothing a little sleep won't fix."

"We'll rest tomorrow too," Elle informed him, coming in and looking through the pockets of his new suit where it lay on the bed. "Do you mind doing some farm work, though? The day after?"

"Of course not." It actually sounded nice, after so much inactivity. It might be therapeutic, too. Slow, easy work to get his body back in shape. He'd be careful.

"Thanks. The materials will be delivered for fencing tomorrow afternoon, and we'll take them out and get started the next morning."

"Am I now a manual laborer?" Loki asked dryly, also coming into Steve's bedroom. "I was never trained for menial tasks."

"That's okay," Elle ignored his glare, as usual. "It's really easy. I'm sure your superior brain can handle it."

"Insolent mortal," Loki scoffed disinterestedly.

"Here's your shield back." Zephaniah stepped in, and the room was suddenly getting crowded. "If you don't keep it in here, Alan and I will probably sneak out and test it tonight."

"Thanks," Steve took it back, lying it next to the head of his bed. Dave the dog came in and flopped on the floor, panting. There was almost no room to move. Steve stood next to the dresser, and Elle sat on the other side of his bed, looking at the knives on his gloves. Loki leaned against the wall next to the door, and before Steve knew it Alan was pushing Zeph further inside and throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"Party's in here," he commented. "We can go to the loft. More seating."

"I actually think I'll go to bed," Elle said, replacing Steve's uniform to its regular state. "Aunt June said you guys should, too."

"Yes, Mom," Alan quipped, earning a shove as Eleanore walked by. He exited the room, followed by his brother. "You gave him back the shield? Now we can't test it til after school."

"We'll live," Zeph replied patiently as they went into their room.

"I suppose this is goodnight," Loki said, standing up straight and heading out as well. "I can only imagine what horrors await us tomorrow."

"I'm sure it'll be torture," Steve said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Loki's fake tragic expression. "You'll face it better with some rest."

"The same could be said of you." Loki disappeared around the corner, and Steve heard his door shut.

He went out into the loft area, carrying his toothpaste and toothbrush. The twins had ducked into the hall bathroom a moment before, and Steve could hear shoving and splashing. He didn't want to go in there after them. Instead he used what he assumed was formerly Eleanore and Lydia's bathroom. It had a stand-up shower, toilet, and sink all in a space about the size of his bathroom at home. He was quick, knowing his teammates were likely waiting.

"Wipe the damn toilet seat." The statement, made in a tired, exasperated, accepting voice greeted him as he opened the door. Eleanore was down the hall, standing in the light of the abandoned bathroom. "Alan, get back here. I know it was you."

"Gonna run a DNA test?" the larger twin asked, winking as he walked by. He was out of sight for a second as Steve crossed the loft. Then he emerged again and messed his hand through Eleanore's hair, earning a reflexive whack on the arm. "Night, Elle."

"Night." She looked back at Steve and smile-shrugged before aiming for the bathroom he'd just left. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Night, Elle," June called over the loft's wooden railing. It looked down on the living room and a tiny back area that had a piano and some bookshelves. "Boys, let Steve and Loki sleep."

"Night, love you," Elle yelled habitually and Alan yelled, "We _will!"_ Then she looked back up at Steve, "Do you have water?"

"I can find it," Steve assured her. "It comes from the sky, right?"

"Smartass," she chided with a laugh. Charlie wandered up to her, and she picked him up. "Try to drink a few glasses tonight. At least three."

"She even tells you how much water to drink?" Alan asked, skimming past them and heading down the stairs. "Whipped!"

"Don't be a jerk," Elle called after him.

"If you could stop shouting," Loki appeared next to them, making Steve jump. "I was attempting to relax in my newest prison cell."

"Sorry, it's a big house," Elle shrugged. "We'll settle in a few minutes."

"Of course you will," Loki growled. He was in a bad mood again, for some reason.

"What's wrong?" Elle asked.

"I went from a quiet prison to a loud one. I cannot believe I have a preference, but I do." Loki frowned down at her, "And I am expected to be courteous to these people."

"You like my mom. Aunt June isn't that different. And Uncle Cole's nice. Alan's just loud," Eleanore protested. "Look, we're all tired. Why don't you just try to rest?"

"I believe I have made my position on that clear," Loki snarled.

"And I said you'll be able to sleep in a minute," Elle asked, looking up at Loki calmly. "And why don't you do a silencing spell? Anyway. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"Night," Steve said. He looked Loki over and found a seething demigod. "You going to be okay?"

"Go to sleep Captain," Loki muttered, stalking back into his room and closing the door. Steve would have been willing to bet he put a silencing spell on it.

He went to his own room, with windows open slightly to let the cool night air in. Steve shut all but one, turning on the ceiling fan to its lowest setting. There were plenty of blankets on his bed, and he felt thankful to slide into soft, clean-smelling sheets. His memories and flashbacks were held at bay by the day's events. Had SHIELD found the terrorist? Had he become connected to something bigger? Was Lydia safe? Would Darren, Tony, and Bruce fight?

He checked his phone and found a message from Hill. _"Still just observing. Will inform of any status changes."_ He texted his thanks, lying back and relaxing tired muscles. There was no use in worrying about it now. Instead, he'd focus on keeping Loki occupied and in a good mood tomorrow. That would be a job in itself.

For now, though, the room was dark and quiet. Alan's footsteps walked by and the twins' bedroom door closed. Chickens clucked somewhere outside. The moon made crosshatched shadows on the carpet.

Steve closed his eyes. The smell of lilacs wafted gently on a breeze. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled into sleep.

 _ **A/N: So there we have it, Chapter 21! I forgot to mark it when this story went over one hundred thousand words, but it has. Hope you guys like it so far!**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Yeah, I thought they wouldn't get too attached if animals died as quickly as they do here on Earth. Also, animals are a bit messy, but totally worth it. :)**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Thanks for reading! Please Rate and Review and have a great weekend!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	22. Chapter 22: L Farm

The sound barrier Loki had erected was unnecessary after the boys had gone to bed. He removed it when he woke after a few hours' sleep, chest heaving, sweat dripping from another nightmare he could not recall. The quiet house and the sounds from the outside helped calm him down, ground him again on the realm where he was safe, if not free. Chickens clucked quietly somewhere in the soft night, and the stars outside his window were vastly different from those he'd glimpsed on walks from prison cell to torture chamber to Thanos' throne. There were chickens on Asgard, and their familiar noise was actually a comfort. Of course, he'd never heard chickens in his royal bedchamber in the palace, but he knew them from days spent at the Market.

Loki fell back against the bed with a quiet groan. He still felt tired from the day of traveling, cooped up in the vehicle. No matter how much 'leg room' he was granted, the stillness had worn him thin. Added to the tension that came from holding protection spells over the self-driving monstrosity and sending out searching magic to make sure no one was following them, he had been ready to snap once they stopped at the end of the rocky, flowery drive. Still, he'd held himself together through the limited tour of the large house and the late supper. He went cautiously, not knowing how Lydia's sister would react to his usual sarcasm. June turned out to be very similar to her sister and niece in that respect, chuckling when Loki made jokes about the discomfort of Midgardian transportation. Loki had let himself go a bit over the conversation and the simple fare. Eleanore had left him alone, stuck between the twins and their endless questions and teasing. Loki felt his energy and tolerance draining just watching them. The Captain had been just as weary, thankfully, and so Eleanore had encouraged her loud cousins to retire long before they wanted to.

Those boys reminded Loki uncomfortably of himself and Thor in time long past. Different brothers, close as they could be despite all that. One all brawn and one with a valuable mind. Both young enough to still believe their dissimilarities would not tear them apart in the end.

 _Enough of that,_ Loki told himself. He was getting too personal and reminiscent, and it created an uncomfortable ache in his chest. Ridiculous.

There was no timepiece in this room, so Loki had no real idea how close dawn was drawing. He rose and retrieved his cell phone from the chest of drawers where he'd set it when he'd brought his bags up in the first place. _Five past two._ If the sun rose at relatively the same time here, he had a few hours left to attempt sleep. Normally, Loki would just give up on it after a nightmare, but he could feel the weariness wearing his focus down. He needed rest if he was to pleasantly face Eleanore's family in the morning.

He managed to doze and fall gradually into a deeper slumber, free of any real dreams. He was disturbed by an outside force three hours later, when the loud twin thumped his feet into the bathroom, and the quiet one shuffled down the hall and the stairs with a long yawn. Noises and voices started in the kitchen below Loki's bedroom, June's voice murmuring softly and Zephaniah replying.

Loki abandoned any attempt at sleep and rose to don normal Midgardian clothing close to that which he'd seen Eleanore's family wearing the day before. Rough blue pants (called jeans, for some reason), his exercise shoes, a soft, black short-sleeved shirt. He was supposed to fit in here, and if there was anything Loki was capable of (when he wanted to be), it was surface assimilation.

Light shone from under the bathroom door when Loki stepped into the hallway. He ventured to the other one near Eleanore's room, not truly caring whether he woke her or not. It turned out that he needn't have worried about that, because he heard the loud twin emerge from across the loft area, and burst into her room.

" _Wake up, Elle! Drive us to weights."_

" _Drive your damn self, you little shit."_ Eleanore was significantly less pleasant with her relatives, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Loki heard a thump and a shriek, followed by laughter. _"Come on. Mom won't let us drive ourselves anymore."_

" _Cry me a river. Get out so I can get dressed."_ One set of footsteps halted outside her door as it closed, and another set of shifting ones unzipped a bag and muttered about ungrateful, sleepless youth.

Loki finished in the bathroom and headed down the stairs, avoiding Alan as he leaned on the wall next to Eleanore's bedroom door. He walked through the dark main room and into the bright kitchen.

"Good morning," June greeted him, handing over a glass full of brown liquid. "It's chocolate milk."

"Ah." Loki took a tentative sip and fond it good. Like cold hot chocolate from the night of the storm. "Thank you."

"It's good for your muscles," Zephaniah commented from his perch at the detached counter, hos own beverage already gone.

"Is it indeed." Loki stood to the boy's left, watching as June emptied another powder packet into a glass and poured milk over it. She mixed it with a spoon until it was the same color and consistency as Loki's.

"Thanks Mom," Alan said, entering the kitchen with thudding steps and taking the drink. He and Zephaniah both wore exercise clothes: thin shirts and waving short trousers with the typical shoes.

Eleanore walked in much more quietly in a long blue sleeveless shirt that nearly reached her knees that were covered in gray leggings, and squinted up at Loki. "Hey."

"Good morning," Loki greeted her, feeling a bit foolish for his overreaction to the noise the night before. "Did you have a pleasant night?"

"Yeah, you?" Eleanore was inarticulate in the morning. Loki did not feel inclined to answer, because she probably wouldn't really hear it. She bypassed the chocolate milk and poured herself a cup of coffee from the large silver pot under the corner overhead cupboard. The cat rubbed against Loki's ankles. "Alan says I'm driving them."

"Oh, would you?" June asked gratefully. "I can get started on some work, then."

"Of course," Eleanore pulled cream and sugar from the corner cupboard and mixed them into her drink. "Loki, would you like some tea?"

"I would." Loki watched as she pulled the Bengal Spice mixture from the cupboard and got a white mug filled with water. She placed it in the warming box for a minute, and then added the tea bag, handing the concoction over.

"This stuff has caffeine, but it probably won't affect you."

"Thank you." Loki added sugar to the beverage, drinking with a sigh. It was really very good.

"Come on Elle," Alan urged. "We can't be late today."

"Then let's go. Your car."

"I wanted to try out the cool government one," Alan complained.

"It's for work," Eleanore informed him as the trio went out the door.

"So did you sleep okay?" June asked, her voice drowning out the bickering between her children and her niece.

"I did," Loki put on his courteous facade as the Captain descended the stairs. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"It's no problem," June smiled at him, looking like a curly-haired, healthy version of Lydia. "Good morning, Steve."

"Good morning," Rogers carried a cup and hurriedly filled it at the sink. He looked tired and dehydrated as he gulped down three glasses full of water before he slowed down. "Sorry, I was really thirsty."

"Probably hungry too, right?" June asked, looking between the men. "I have to get started on a project quick, but Cole's already up. He'll get some real breakfast ready."

"I'm fine ma'am," Rogers protested, but she was already moving down the hallway.

"Elle said low sodium and sugar for you the next few days. Eggs okay?" she paused in front of one of the bedroom doors.

"That sounds lovely, thank you," Loki answered for both of them. On Asgard, and nearly every other realm, it was considered the height of incivility to refuse a host's hospitality. He'd feigned polite levels of delight over much worse meals than eggs. He gave a bright smile as June disappeared behind a closed door.

"You're cheery today," Rogers noted. "Do you like it here?"

"It is considerably more peaceful with the youth away," Loki let his grin turn snide. "And the house itself is much larger than the accommodations I have experienced thus far."

"It's nice," Rogers agreed. "I've never been to this part of the country before. I thought it'd be boring, but it's actually really scenic."

"Have you your sketchings?" Loki picked up the cat and walked into the main room, looking out the large window into a flower garden with a view over several rolling valleys. The sun was rising, and mist sat low in the remaining shadows. One of the large doors to the outbuilding was open, revealing an empty space where a black and white cat lounged on the cool cement floor.

"I do," Rogers acknowledged, standing at the other end of the glass. "SHIELD packed everything."

"You boys hungry?" Coleman asked as he emerged from the basement stairway. He continued before they answered, "Eggs sunny-side-up or scrambled?"

"Sunny-side-up," the Captain said immediately. Loki had no idea what that meant, so he just shrugged. He and Rogers made their way into the kitchen where Coleman was cracking eggs over a pan and adding bread into a silver machine Loki had never seen.

"Eggs and toast," the older man explained. "Breakfast of champions."

"Can I do anything?" Rogers offered, typically. At least he'd recovered his manners.

"Rest up for tomorrow," Coleman said cheerfully. "It's gonna be quite a project, even with you guys here."

"What does this entail?" Loki asked cautiously, setting the cat on the ground. He was willing to work, despite the resistance he would show Eleanore, and he knew it would likely not be very difficult. Still, he'd never built fences before. He had never even seen one constructed, so far was the palace from any farmland. The fences there were stone or wood, but the ones he'd passed on the trip yesterday appeared to be metal posts with wires strung across them.

"Our old fence was put in back in the seventies when June's dad bought this place," Coleman explained as he fried the eggs without scrambling them. "It's lasted a long time, but the old posts are getting too rotten to keep the cows in very well. We'll do a complete overhaul: new posts, new panels, everything. I know a guy who's selling his land in housing lots and ripping up his old fencing, so we're getting materials from him delivered today. It'll be hard work digging the old posts out, but if we put gravel around the bottom of the new ones, they'll last until my nonexistent grandchildren are your age."

"Doubtful," Loki muttered before he thought about it.

"Well, maybe not as old as you," Coleman conceded. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I have estimated myself to be about one thousand of your years," Loki always enjoyed the surprise that declaration caused.

"Huh. Guess that makes sense. Lydia said you're the real Loki from Norse mythology," Coleman showed a suitable amount of shock, but shrugged it off a second later. "How's she doing?"

Loki glanced at Rogers, who was also looking at him. What could they say? She was dying, and her family already had to know that. "She is persistent," Loki said, settling for a half-compliment.

"What else is new?" Coleman chuckled and served eggs and buttered toast onto two plates. "Enjoy."

Loki took the plate and fork offered him and took a seat next to Rogers at the counter. Coleman served himself and ate across from them, standing up.

"So your boys play football?" Rogers asked after a few moments of silence. Loki had no idea what football was, or how Rogers knew the twins were a part of it, but at least he didn't have to carry this conversation any longer.

"Only Alan does. Zeph does baseball in the summer, cross-country in the fall, and track in the spring. Alan wrestles in the winter." Coleman spoke proudly of his sons. Loki could understand that, even if none of the terms were familiar.

"Cross-country?" Rogers asked.

"Long distance running. Zeph's so skinny, the wind can't catch him. Al can keep up with him, but he likes impact sports."

Well, that was obvious from the louder twin's bulk and attitude. So like Thor. Meanwhile, Zephaniah preferred things that would not injure him as much. The parallels were uncanny. Loki wondered if part of the reason for this hiatus, besides protection, was to remind him of his not-family, specifically the former relationship he'd had with Thor. Eleanore was usually more direct than that, though. Likely, she did not even make the connection, so little did she know of Thor and Loki.

Coleman and Rogers were still talking about the boys. Zephaniah wanted to work for Stark Industries one day as a developmental scientist in the technology division. Loki thought he might reconsider after dealing with Tony Stark's abrasive personality. Alan was still thinking about a real life plan, but Coleman thought he might take over the farm after he went to college.

"It's a nice place," Rogers complimented the farm itself.

"Thanks. We're working on a deal to expand a couple of acres. More cows, more fencing. Feel free to visit if you ever want a project," Coleman took their empty plates with a smile and stacked them in the dish washing machine. "Did Elle just take the boys to school, or was she going to visit?"

"She did not specify," Loki said when both men turned to him.

"I don't have my phone. She might have texted or something. Excuse me," Rogers rose and went upstairs, while Loki summoned his device from his room.

"That's a neat trick," Coleman said interestedly, watching the cell phone appear and drop a couple of inches into Loki's outstretched palm.

Loki bristled at the word 'trick,' but he knew the farmer meant nothing by it. Certainly, magic and mutants were more accepted in this strange little family. "It is very convenient."

"Do you have to know where the phone is before you get it? Because that would really help me find my glasses. I lose them all the time." Coleman settled into the conversation, leaning his elbows against the counter across from Loki's seat.

"Location spells and retrieval are different," Loki explained. The other man seemed genuinely interested, which made it much easier to speak about the technique. "I must know where any object is for retrieval, but if I want to find something specific, I need only picture it."

"What if you can't picture it?"

"Then the magic lacks will, and it results in a simple burst of energy without direction." Loki put the phone on the counter and help up his hand again, letting a small light flash outward. "Like that."

"That's incredible," Coleman said as Rogers walked back into the room.

The man out of time gave Loki a smile and sat at the counter again, pulling up a text message from Eleanore. _"I'm visiting the school and some friends. I'll be back in about two hours."_

"What other things do you do?" Coleman asked, his attention still on Loki.

"It would take far too much time to list everything I am capable of," Loki replied, feeling lighter under the compliment his magic had never warranted before. "Mostly, I use it in combat or for storing things away until I need them."

"Do you manipulate energy specifically, or is it more like set spells you can call up?"

"Both," Loki said, impressed. "The retrieval and location examples were spells, but the demonstration was energy manipulation. Much like Eleanore's water control." He decided to give an example the man was familiar with.

"Does it take a lot of your energy?" Coleman asked. Rogers got comfortable in his seat and also turned his full attention to Loki.

"Some things are more taxing than others, and distance is one of the most important factors." Loki was not used to being heard like this. Yes, Eleanore and Lydia listened well, but Loki had suspected they were trying to make him feel comfortable by any means necessary, even listening to long, boring explanations of magical theory. Darren actually discussed things, but he was a fellow magician. Coleman had no ulterior motive, and he seemed more interested than any of them. "What do you do, Master Hansen?" he asked for the sake of politeness.

"Me? June and I are contracting programmers, so we work from home and run the farm. And please call me Cole."

Loki had heard of contracting before. It was how Eleanore was connected to SHIELD— the thin thread of a legal document keeping her there, and keeping them around to protect her in case of disaster. "And what does that require?"

"Long hours, mostly," Coleman jested. "I'm actually about to start a twenty-four-hour stint helping a company set up a new program on their computers. You'll be working with Alan and Zeph tomorrow, not me."

"Twenty-four hours?" Rogers asked incredulously.

"Yeah, but then I get a few days off in between jobs. June and I switch between long projects and breaks so we can keep an eye on the boys," Cole explained. "Now that Elle's here, though, we don't have to worry as much."

"She keep them out of trouble?" Rogers asked, grinning.

"Something like that. They listen to her, at least. Alan most of all. Zeph would help curb some of his worse ideas, but Alan's kind of… independent." Cole shrugged and smiled.

Loki was already displeased with the louder boy, and he had hardly met him. He listened silently, not wanting to say something offensive, as Rogers chuckled and replied politely to Cole's critique of his son. "Elle's a force of nature."

"She takes after her grandma," Cole agreed. He stood up straight and rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "Well, I better get started on some work. Let me know if you need anything. I'll be in the basement."

"Good luck," Rogers called as the older man opened the waist-high gate and descended the stairs. He turned to Loki. "So what now?"

"I believe your orders are to rest," Loki informed him with a superior grin. "I can, however, create some entertainment if you require it."

"That's okay," Rogers laughed and shook his head, "Don't bother with that until the boys get back. I'm sure they'll help you with your 'entertainment'."

"If you insist," Loki shrugged and made his way into the main room again, where Charlie and Jet were lying in the large open space in the middle of the floor. There was a bookcase against the outer wall between the large window and a smaller one. Loki scanned through the titles, finding textbooks on history and farming and science and computers scattered among fictional narratives. He chose one on the history of Eastern Empires and settled into one of the larger gray armchairs that were paired on either side of the picture window.

Rogers retrieved his sketchbook and supplies and sat facing the window, detailing the morning as the sun rose higher and higher and sipping from a glass of water from time to time. Charlie, seeing the two men at rest, chose to leap from Loki's lap to Rogers' and back, finally curling into a vibrating ball with his paws and chin on Loki's left arm. Clouds periodically covered the sun, casting the room into shadow and making the returning light seem that much brighter. The room was pleasantly cool in contrast to the warm rays. A strong breeze stirred the flowers and grass and trees outside, reminding Loki of the farming plains of Vanaheim where the wind was a constant companion.

When the sun had made good progress upward and the tall clock had chimed nine times, the crunch of tires on gravel announced Eleanore's return. She drove a small white car and parked it in the open outbuilding. The spotted dog barked several times, causing Charlie to bush up and hide his face in Loki's elbow.

"Enough, Dave," Eleanore said sternly as she came inside the door. The dog stopped barking, but still rushed around excitedly, nearly knocking her over as she came into the main room and greeted Loki and Rogers. "Hey, having a good morning?"

"Yeah," Rogers said before Loki could be sarcastic. "Your uncle made us breakfast."

"That's good." She walked over toward Loki and held out her hands for the trilling cat, who rubbed his face against her nose. "Are you getting enough water, Steve?"

"I am now," Rogers held up his half-empty glass. Eleanore waved her hand and filled it fully from the air. "Thanks. How was visiting?"

"It was nice. I got to see most of my teachers, and they were glad to hear I've got a job already. Let me take your pulse." She performed a quick check-up on Rogers, which he submitted to without a fuss. "Your heart's still going a little fast. Drink more water and sit still for a few more hours."

"Yes, doc." Rogers' sarcasm was improving, Loki noted with a suppressed grin. He drained the glass, then another when Eleanore refilled it.

"Captain Sassmerica strikes again," Eleanore retorted. "If you keep improving, we could go for a short run tomorrow morning."

"Sure," Rogers looked over at Loki, "I'll make sure you're not dragging me to a hospital again."

"That would be preferable," Loki muttered, focusing on the book again as Charlie jumped back into his lap.

The next few hours were spent in more quiet reading with the occasional interruption as June took breaks from her work and Eleanore commented on the book she was reading. The room got darker as the sun went overhead, no longer shining straight through the window. The Captain drew and read and stared over the landscape in silent contemplation. Loki learned about the feudal system in Japan and its demise. A late lunch was pizza, although Loki found that June and Cole both called lunch and supper 'dinner,' causing a bit of confusion when they asked Eleanore to cook it. She saved leftover slices for the boys, who she said would be hungry when they came home later that day.

Sure enough, Alan and Zephaniah both tramped up the driveway and straight into the kitchen, dropping their packs and taking the plates Eleanore handed them with gruff-sounding thanks. They ate like they had not seen food in weeks, putting away half a pizza between them. Loki and Rogers listened from the main room as they described what was apparently their last day of school and the plans they had for the summer's vacation.

"Want to go skeet shooting?" Alan asked after he was done. Loki wondered what that meant, and whether he would be expected to participate.

Eleanore narrowed her eyes in thought as she looked over at Rogers. "What does your mom say?"

"She said it was fine."

"Are the cows out of the way?"

"We'll herd them over. Come on, Zeph." The boys raced out again before coming back inside and rushing up the stairs to change their clothing.

"It's not a far walk, Steve," Eleanore said. "But let me know if you get tired."

"I feel great," Rogers assured her. "It'll be fun, right Loki?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Loki informed them. "So I do not know whether or not I would consider it 'fun'."

"I think you might," Eleanore said a little too knowingly, which was annoying.

"Got all the guns. Here's yours," Alan thumped down the stairs and shoved a long case into Eleanore's hands.

"Do you have the _chk-chk_ ones?" she asked, making the clicking noise by forcing air between her teeth.

"Yeah. Zeph's getting the pigeons. We just got two hundred." Alan seemed to understand the noise, and cocked his head toward the door. "Come on."

"You have to move the cows," Eleanore reminded him, shouldering the case and following him out. Rogers stood to follow them, and Loki rose as well with a sigh. If it involved firearms, it _might_ be entertaining.

"I know, I know." Alan led them around the white outbuilding and up a trodden dirt path to a little observational deck, where he set the guns down and ran away into a gate where twenty cattle grazed in a pasture. He waved his arms and dashed around, herding them off into another pasture with ten or so more cows and a small white barn with an open stable space. Once every animal was through, he pulled and latched a gate to cut them off from the grassy area. Loki guessed that large hillside would be in the line of fire.

"Here," Zephaniah set two large boxes and ten smaller ones down with a thud. "Alan forgot the ammo."

"He got the cows, though," Eleanore informed him, unzipping her case and revealing a long, wood handled, two-barreled gun the likes of which Loki had never seen.

"Here," Zephaniah said again, throwing her a small box. She opened it and started loading red rounds into the chamber, two at a time. "Loki, do you want a .12 or .20 gauge?"

"Pardon me?" Loki asked, trying to figure out what was which, and what he should prefer.

".12 gauge kicks more," Rogers supplied. "Elle's is a .20."

".12, then." Loki could outdo the mortal woman and her sense of superiority.

Zephaniah pulled another gun from a case, this one dark green with a single black barrel. He loaded a shot into it, showing Loki silently how it was done, then handed it over. "You pump it like this," he showed Loki, and the gun made the _chk-chk_ sound Eleanore had described. "Then you load more in. Here, have some ear plugs. Do you mind if I do a demonstration shot?"

"Not at all." Loki _liked_ the gun, and the small rush that came from the pumping action. It felt powerful, even if this was only a Midgardian weapon meant for shooting pigeons in boxes. He put the small foam pieces into his ears, noting the lack of sound now around him.

"Load up, Elle." Zephaniah stepped up to the north railing and held the gun close to his shoulder as Eleanore pulled a round orange disk from one of the larger boxes and put in into a metal contraption built into the woodwork. "See, you have to hold it tight to your shoulder muscle or it hurts when it fires. Look down the barrel at the dot sight and lead the pigeon a little as it flies. Lowball, Elle."

"Ready," his cousin replied, adjusting the disk on the metal arm. Alan reached the deck, but stayed silent and away from the wooden boards, likely avoiding distraction.

"Pull," Zephaniah said, closing one eye. Eleanore pulled a string, and the metal arm threw the disk into the air far above the field. Zephaniah watched it a moment before firing. The disk split into powder and chunks, falling to the earth with the tiny pellets that had destroyed it. The quieter twin smiled in satisfaction and turned to Loki. "Your turn."

"Thank you." Loki accepted the gun and pumped it as he was instructed, watching as a smoking, empty red cartridge popped out and fell to the ground. Alan picked it up, then sat and loaded another gun. Loki stepped up to the railing, planting his feet solidly and looking along the barrel as Eleanore loaded another disk into the machine. He found the sight, and figured out how to aim the weapon with utmost accuracy. It was fairly simple, even with the instructions for 'leading' the 'pigeon' repeated by the louder twin. Loki took a moment longer to assure himself of success, then took a deep breath. "Pull."

He doubted the mortals could track each pellet through the air, much less watch every powdery piece of the pigeon fall to the ground. He pitied them, for the sight was quite satisfying. He stepped back, flipping the safety switch as he'd seen Eleanore and Zephaniah do.

"That was awesome," Alan congratulated him. "It just went _poof_."

"So it did," Loki granted him a small smile, despite his elated feelings. He handed the gun off so someone else could have a turn.

"Good job," Eleanore smiled at him, and he smirked.

Rogers shot next, nearly as perfect as Loki had been, earning just as much praise from the boys. Then the twins held a contest, each holding one of the pump guns, shooting at two pigeons at once and seeing if they could bring their own down and the other's. This resulted in a wasted shot each, but they were laughing when they finished. Then Alan set up two more pigeons on the machine and Eleanore picked up her double-barreled .20 gauge and shot them both in succession.

"Wow," Rogers complimented. "I didn't know you were a good shot."

"I prefer close-range combat, but I'm okay." Eleanore handed him her gun, and he examined it a moment before handing it to Loki. "That was an inheritance from my grandpa, and he taught me how to shoot with it."

"Wouldn't let me touch it until I was ten," Alan grumbled good-naturedly. "Want to try it, Loki?"

"I would not say no." Loki loaded two more 'shells' into the gun. It was far heavier than the pump ones, and it looked far older by Midgardian standards. The sight was the same dark metal of the barrel, and the wooden handle fit well into his shoulder. He noticed Eleanore watching him nervously, biting her lip. "Are there any special instructions you would like to share with me?"

She smiled and stepped forward, clear relief in her eyes. "This is a side-by-side, so you have to take that into account when aiming it. You can shoot twice by pulling the trigger two times, so you have to hold it loosely. It doesn't kick very hard, but if you're holding onto the trigger you'll shoot accidentally. I've done it before, even when I knew it would happen."

"I will take that into account," Loki said dryly, surprised at how calmly he was handling these orders from his captor. But then, he thought, she was just trying to teach him about a different weapon, one she knew well and valued highly. This was, in a distant way, akin to Thor giving him Mjolnir, if that were possible. But this weapon had more sentimental than destructive value, a simple heirloom from her grandfather. For an instant, an image flashed through his mind of aiming the gun and shooting her, but he waved it away. It was impossible, and he didn't want to do it anyway.

"Ready?" Alan asked, still manning the throwing machine.

"A moment," Loki approached the railing again as Eleanore backed off and stood next to the Captain to watch. Loki raised the gun to his shoulder and sighted along it until he was sure he knew what he was doing. "Pull."

Two pigeons flew through the air, and Loki demolished one of them right away. The other one escaped, however, when he misjudged the offset of the other barrel, sending pellets into the sky under it. He frowned, following the disk with his eyes until it landed safely up the hill, mocking him with bright orange reflected from the green grass.

"I always miss with that one, too," Alan told him, setting up another round for Rogers, who took the gun from Loki to try for himself.

The Captain got both his pigeons with ease, which made Loki grind his teeth and vow to do better. "I've shot a side-by-side before," Rogers informed him, shrugging. "Back in the war. The French Resistance liked them."

"That's insane," Alan breathed reverently, looking up at Rogers like he was worshiping a benevolent god. "You were really there. What was it like?"

Rogers' expression dropped slightly, almost imperceptibly, as he was reminded of the time he'd lost. Sometimes he would talk about it readily, sharing a few facts or an anecdote with fond smiles and chuckles. When asked, however, his memories went straight to the worst cases and stayed there until he sorted through them and fished out some appropriate things for his audience to hear. Loki knew this because the same thing happened to him when he was asked about his past. He could see Rogers sifting through his feelings quickly, tensing his shoulders against the pain, and drawing himself up into the hero the boy thought he was.

"Never mind," Alan said quickly, holding up his hands and shaking his head. "Elle, the principle said today that they're counting our school attendance by hours instead of days next year, so we have to make up more snow days if we have them. Cody stood up and yelled, 'This place is a prison!'"

"Wow," Eleanore rolled her eyes and accepted the change of subject readily. "So who got elected for Student Council?"

Loki reevaluated his estimation of the larger twin to include his sensitivity toward others. It put him a few notches above Thor, who could not see past his own emotions, much less understand other people's. And this boy was only fifteen years-old, while Thor had had a thousand years to learn empathy. It was impressive.

Rogers was quiet the rest of the time they stayed on the tiny deck, shooting their way through both boxes of pigeons and all the ammunition. Loki tried Eleanore's gun again and succeeded in taking both targets down several times over. Alan challenged him to a contest, which resulted in the same waste shots as before, but it was fun to test the boy's reaction time. Loki competed against Eleanore as well, and she very nearly got his pigeon when using her weapon of choice. Loki teased her for having an advantage, so they switched guns and the result was about the same. She promised the boys that they could try out Darren's new guns tomorrow after their work was finished for the day. When they were done, everyone gathered up the empty shells and garbage and trooped back to the house, where they threw the refuse away in a large bin.

"What's for supper, Mom?" Alan called as soon as they entered the house.

"I thought you guys could cook out over the fire pit," June said, handing several metal pokers and a couple plastic bags full of various food items to her son and niece. "Marshmallows and s'mores stuff, hot dogs, paper plates, and buns. Should be enough for all of you in there. Get the bug spray and water bottles from the pantry."

"Ketchup?" Eleanore asked.

"Here," June rolled her eyes affectionately and pulled two bottles, yellow and red, from the refrigerator. "The boys stacked firewood last weekend, and there's newspaper in the little box out there." Alan and Zephaniah headed out the door again at a run, taking the spotted dog with them.

"Thanks Aunt June," Eleanore said, taking one of the bags and giving a hug in return. She turned and ushered Loki and Rogers out ahead of her, stopping at the tallest cupboard in the entry room and retrieving five bottles of water from it. "How are you, Steve?"

"Fine," Rogers answered too quickly. Loki raised an eyebrow at him, but he wouldn't pursue it. That was Eleanore's job.

She did it well. "You don't have to come out if you don't want to. I can leave some food in here and we can leave you alone."

"No, I'm good." Rogers shrugged her concern off and forced a grin. Then his eyes widened, "Wait here." He turned and headed back into the house in a rush, and Loki could hear his footsteps mounting the stairs and hurrying to his bedroom and back. When he returned he carried his shield and had a real half-smile on his face. "They wanted to test it."

"Thanks," Eleanore said, leading them out the door and around the house on a cobblestone path that was lined with spiky flowers. The path curved down the side of the hill into a little clearing surrounded on all sides by old, tall trees, pine and oak and others unfamiliar to Loki. There was a brick-lined fire pit with several metal benches and chairs set around it in a circle, and a little metal box was open to reveal papers and a smaller cardboard box inside. The twins were already setting up a cone of logs and stuffing paper into its base. The dog, Dave, was sniffing through the needle-coated floor and chasing rabbits away with huffing barks. The sun was hovering just above the horizon, out across a large field filled with tiny green plants. The air smelled clean and fresh after the pollution of the city, and Loki felt himself relaxing into a good mood. He let himself go, figuring Eleanore and the Captain would appreciate it too much to question him about it.

"That's enough lighter fluid!" Eleanore exclaimed, rushing forward and stealing the plastic bottle away from Zephaniah. "Honestly, you're both such pyromaniacs."

"Best kind of maniac," Alan retorted, walking over and stealing the bottle back.

Before he could do anything with it, Loki snapped his fingers and flames erupted from the little pile, causing all the cousins to jump back. He laughed at the boys' expressions of shock, and after a moment he was joined by Eleanore's open chortling and Rogers' repressed chuckle.

"I guess that settles that," Rogers said, picking up the bag from where Eleanore had dropped it and approaching the fire with the air of a happy man. Loki followed him, still relishing the frozen twins.

"But what…" Zephaniah trailed off, his eyes going straight to Eleanore. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," she protested, laughing again.

"Yes you freaking did," Alan accused, capping the bottle and placing it in the metal box. "Did you learn new tricks from Avenger training?"

"I really didn't," Eleanore assured them. Alan came up behind her and tried to put her in a head lock, but she twisted around expertly, holding his arm behind his back. "You know I hate being man-handled. And no fighting around the fire."

"Jesus, you've gotten stronger." Alan stumbled as she let him go. "But who did it if it wasn't you?"

"Loki." Zephaniah stared straight at him, his blue eyes discerning. "You did it, didn't you?"

"I did," Loki conceded with a grin. He held a hand out and made the flames turn green and rise to the height of his eyes. "Although you are more than welcome to blame Eleanore."

"Holy shit," Alan abandoned Eleanore and gaped as the fire returned to normal. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," Loki answered honestly, wondering if the boy would understand a more detailed explanation.

"No, really." Alan frowned at him, sitting down next to his brother. "Magic isn't real."

"Yes it is," Rogers said, handing his shield over to Zephaniah.

"Make me fly, then," Alan challenged. "No tricks, just whatever it is you do."

"I do not take requests," Loki said icily. He did not like being doubted; it brought up memories of battle, people shouting at him afterward, telling him he acted dishonorably in killing with green flashes and thrown blades instead of the sword or the mace.

"Alan, don't be a jackass," Zephaniah suggested calmly, examining the shield. "Elle's a mutant, and look what she can do."

"She has magic as well," Loki added sullenly.

"But she can only do water things and heal stuff," Alan said. "Can you control fire?"

"Obviously," Loki snarked. He felt a brush of calm pass questioningly over his emotions, not influencing them, but reminding him to settle down. _Do you care so much for the opinion of a mortal boy?_ "My magic is the result of centuries of practice, not a mutated genome."

"Centuries?" Zephaniah asked, taking his eyes from the metal in front of him. "Like hundreds of years?"

"Indeed." Loki felt a little better, reveling in their surprise as Eleanore handed him some sort of packaged length of meat on one of the pokers. He held it over the fire and watched it sizzle and brown.

"So you're centuries old?" Zephaniah confirmed.

"He's like a thousand," Eleanore informed him. "He's _Loki_ , from Norse mythology. He visited Earth back when there were Vikings and made it into their legends."

"You're shitting me," Alan said.

"I am not shitting you," Eleanore assured him. "Think about it. Thor, Loki…"

"I thought they were just superhero names," Alan explained. "Like Iron Man and Captain America and the Rain."

"Did they name me Rain?" Eleanore asked in near horror.

"Hm, I would have chosen Water Witchling," Loki said, enjoying her reaction.

"They had to name you something," Zephaniah said, hefting the shield as though he meant to throw it into the twilight. "Everyone's talking about you, trying to figure out who you are. There's websites, and CBS took a poll until they decided on the name. Now everyone's using it. I think you're stuck with it."

"I'm going to have to go public pretty soon, Eleanore muttered, handing Loki an elongated, split piece of bread. She zipped up the brown jacket she'd brought into the chilly evening. "Maybe when we get back."

"I was thinking the same thing," Rogers agreed. "It'll be better if you just tell the truth right away."

"So we can start telling people?" Alan asked excitedly. "Steve, will you sign autographs?"

"Don't tell anyone until I get to," Eleanore cautioned him. "We're here in secret, remember? No one knows about Steve and Loki, and we need to keep it that way."

"I'll sign things for you before I go," Rogers promised, taking a bite of what Loki could only assume was a 'hot dog'. It reminded him of the rations from the helicarrier, but the charring from the fire added some flavor.

"So Loki, are you an alien?" Zephaniah asked, changing the subject as quickly as his cousin could.

"I am." Loki did not mind being called such, since everyone from all other Nine Realms would be labeled the same here.

"Does everyone do magic, where you're from?"

"They do not. I am rather unique in that respect."

"You're really a thousand years old?" This was from Alan, who still acted incredulous around a mouth full of food.

"Yes, give or take." How many more times would he have to explain this fact?

"Why are you here?" Zephaniah asked.

Loki paused, looking to Eleanore, unsure what explanation she would give. Strangely, he did not want to tell these innocent boys that he'd killed for pleasure, even if the pleasure was not really his. He was a hero to them, no complicated background to explain… yet. _I can live a lie again, here, if my captors let me. But is that what I desire?_

"He's part of the Avengers," Rogers said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

"Oh," the twins said together, eating thoughtfully as true dusk fell on the land.

Loki finished his own meal, not in the mood for seconds. Eleanore sat to his right, and Rogers to his left. He was surrounded by people who might claim him as a friend, and for the first time, he did not feel quite so alone. Still a monster, but a partly accepted one.

"So you're like the youngest Avenger, aren't you Elle?" Alan asked suddenly, looking across the fire with a grin.

"Oh, shut up," Eleanore told him. "I graduated from college."

"So that means I can join up in four years," Alan continued, ostensibly considering.

The math clicked in Loki's mind immediately. "You're nineteen?" It could not be true. He could not be under the control of a teenager. A _teenager_ could not be so calm and confident as Eleanore was.

"I'll be twenty in August," she said defensively. "Short mortal life spans, remember?"

 _My life is nothing but a cruel hoax played by the fates._ Loki put his face in his hands and heaved a sigh, too overcome for much else. At nineteen, he was still considered a boy on Asgard, not a man. Thor, a year older, had started separate lessons on kingship and royal behavior in addition to his focus on battle and strategies. Loki was still attending mandatory informational lessons and learning what it truly meant to be the younger brother for the first time in his life. He'd reveled and courted girls his own age, and gotten into the normal troubles nineteen year-old boys did. His mother and father had scolded, and then Frigga had kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way, lesson only partially learned. Nineteen was the year Loki had first truly fallen for someone and had his first heartbreak. All the trials and joys of youth, it seemed now, could be summed up one word: nineteen.

Eleanore was a woman on Midgard, and others treated her as such. She was in the process of watching her mother die, and she was alienated from her father. She dealt with both of these situations maturely, without harming others. She was the oldest sibling, if you counted her cousins as brothers instead, which Loki did. She lived alone, except for a rejected prince of questionable sanity, a dragon, and a cat. She'd helped save the world. There was no real childishness in her manner, and she focused more on others' needs than her own. She knew the man she would likely marry.

"S'more?" Eleanore's voice offered, interrupting Loki's thoughts. He raised his eyes and regarded her silently. She held out another poker with a white blob at its end. _Nineteen… what does it matter?_

"I am not familiar with this delicacy," he said, taking the metal and imitating Alan, who was slowly turning his over the hot coals. Rogers retrieved another couple of logs and placed them gently on the fire, causing it to flare again momentarily.

"It's chocolate and graham cracker and marshmallow," Eleanore gestured to the white blob for the last name. She held a tan, brown, white sandwich, "See?"

"I do see it, yes." He already felt more kindly disposed towards her because she was just a child, and what sense did that make? She was the same person: insufferably stubborn, far too opinionated for her own good. There was no reason to treat her any differently.

Alan's marshmallow was burning. Loki's was not too far behind. He pulled it from the fire and took the two graham crackers and the little slab of chocolate and copied the twins as they slid the marshmallows off the poker using the sandwich materials as a glove. It was good, but messy. Loki ate carefully, brushing crumbs away as they fell. The rest of the group was not as meticulous. Eleanore had chocolate smeared up her cheek, and Alan shoved the entire thing into his mouth and promptly choked, spewing food into the fire as Zephaniah hit him on the back and Rogers handed over a bottle of water. The dog licked everything up that they dropped, and Eleanore made him chase a stream of water around and around until he was so dizzy he lay down.

"Want to play flashlight tag?" Zephaniah offered after everyone had declared their last s'more.

"I don't know…" Eleanore said, glancing at Rogers.

"I'm fine, Elle," the man insisted. He turned back to the quiet twin, "What's flashlight tag?"

"The 'it' person gets a flashlight, but they don't have to use it unless they're going to tag someone. Everyone else goes and hides all around the yard— no pastures and not in the barns or garages or outbuildings at all. If you get tagged with the light, you have to help the 'it' person find everyone else. If you're tagged first, you're 'it' next."

"No invisibility spells or transporting," Eleanore added, raising an eyebrow at Loki. "No powers for me, either."

"I believe that would be obvious," Loki said acerbically. If she was willing to play a children's game, perhaps she was not as mature as he'd thought.

"I've got a flashlight," Alan offered, pulling a thin cylinder from his pocket. "Not it!"

"I'll be it," Zephaniah said. "I brought it up." He took the flashlight from his brother and stood. "I'll count to sixty on the deck, and you guys make a run for it."

"Take my shield," Rogers handed it over again, and the boy shouldered it proudly. Zephaniah made his way up to the back deck and started counting loudly.

Eleanore leapt up and dashed into the darkness without a backwards glance, heading toward the sound of chickens. Loki followed her for a moment before branching off and rushing around the house, climbing the large tree out front and finding a comfortable branch to sit on. He did not really care if he was caught; he wanted to see how the others played.

Rogers dove into the purple-flowered, sweet-smelling bushes that lined the driveway. After a moment of rustling, he was silent. Alan took shelter behind a boulder set decoratively on the edge of the flower garden. Eleanore was nowhere to be seen, but the chickens were clucking excitedly.

That was where Zephaniah headed first. He stalked slowly up to the small white shed with the large wire cage behind it and the vegetable garden in front. The chickens grew louder as he approached. As he rounded the corner, Eleanore came around the other side, using the clucking to mask the sound of her steps. _Clever._ She kept doing that, making the chickens grow louder each time and making Loki chuckle as her younger cousin changed direction to try to throw her off. The chickens gave him away again, however, and Eleanore threw herself behind a stand of vines in the garden just as the flashlight lit that side of the building.

Zeph gave up on that lead, once the chickens quieted again. He moved to the front yard, somehow missing his brother and heading straight for Loki's tree. Loki guessed he'd chosen a common hiding spot when the flashlight blinded him.

"Got you," Zephaniah said. "I didn't think I'd find you first."

"You very nearly had Eleanore," Loki responded, leaping down. "I can lead you to her. All of them, in fact."

"No, I'm supposed to find them myself. But thanks." He looked up at Loki and grinned, "We used to make the found people walk with us because we were scared of the dark. You can go back to the fire if you want."

"I prefer to observe," Loki said, following the boy. "May I tell you if you are getting further away?" They were walking into an uninhabited part of the lawn.

"Back this way? Thanks." Zephaniah took his advice and led them back to the front of the house. He lit his brother immediately. "Al, I can't believe I missed you."

"I've gotten better," Alan bragged, standing. "Not as good as Elle, though. Damn super-secret spy training."

"She's always beaten us," Zephaniah said. "Even before the training. Now she just toys with us."

"That is true," Loki agreed. "You were on the right trail, and you just missed her."

"I know, the chicken coop," Zeph rolled his eyes. "I wasn't going to catch her there, though. Sometimes I just walk in circles, and she follows me around until I turn and surprise her. That's the only way I can get her, though."

"Do not use the flashlight," Loki suggested. "She tracks you by its light."

"But if I don't have it on, she flashes by me and doesn't get tagged. We've been doing this for years. We've gotten taller, but she's gotten sneakier."

Loki shrugged their excuses off. Eleanore was good, but he would easily catch her now that it was his turn. He watched as the brothers argued over where the Captain could have gone. He could hear the man moving, standing, walking nearly silently through the bushes until he was just at the edge of his vision.

"Well, we have to check the lilacs," Alan said.

"How could he know about the tunnels?" Zeph asked, but shone the flashlight anyway, catching a scoffing grin from Captain America himself. "Did Elle tell you about those?"

"She did," Rogers said, disentangling himself from the tiny branches. "Do we have to catch her now?"

"She's probably waiting back at the fire at this point," Alan said resignedly. "That's what she always does, unless we set up an ambush there."

Sure enough, Eleanore had added a few more logs to the fire and was sitting with her feet propped on another chair. "I thought you'd never get here."

"Yeah, yeah," Alan ruffled his hand through her hair and received a light punch on the arm for his trouble. "Loki's 'it' now, though, so you're up a creek."

"No powers still," Eleanore said, frowning at Loki.

"I do not _need_ powers to find you, my lady." Loki smiled, baring his teeth, really, in a threatening expression that usually struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. He doubted it would have the same effect here, but it was worth a try.

"Oooooooh!" Alan exclaimed, pointing at Eleanore, who rolled her eyes. "That's a sick burn, man."

Loki considered the statement, and decided it was a compliment. "Thank you." He took the flashlight, more as a symbol of his 'it' status than anything, and mounted the stairs up to the wooden balcony. He stopped where Zephaniah had, and put his hand wholly over his eyes. "One, two…"

Everyone took off, and it was very difficult to tell who went where until they split up. Even then, the house and trees bounced the noise around so much that Loki knew he'd be relying on sight and sound as he walked around in order to find Eleanore first. She had run with the pack as long as she could, and he did not know where exactly she'd deserted them.

"Sixty." There had been no noise for the last twenty counts. Alan was definitely up a tree near the very fire they'd gathered around, likely thinking his proximity made him safe. If he wasn't hunting for Eleanore, Loki would have exposed him right away.

As it was, he walked quietly through the cut grass without looking up, heading to the other side of the house where the garages and barns started. Eleanore, Zeph, and Rogers had gone this way. Zephaniah's loud, shallow breathing marked him out right at the base of a large tree whose roots climbed outward in tangles, providing shadowy cover. Loki left the boy there, hoping he was not still afraid of the dark. He'd be waiting a while.

Now Loki was in unknown territory, using his heightened senses to gauge others' locations. It was very difficult. Eleanore and Rogers _were_ trained to control their breathing, to avoid peeking out at their opponent, to choose excellent hiding places. Loki thought about the mindset of his prey, as he'd been taught on hunting trips. Eleanore knew this land, knew its best secrets. She would be having fun with the chase. She might even have set a trap for him, although Loki doubted she was that subversive. No, more likely she was watching him look for her from a well-concealed location. He checked his tree and found nothing. He had expected that. This would be a drawn-out chase. He had to be careful not to find Rogers instead of Eleanore, as well.

There were many trees on this side of the pasture fence, and the grass between them was mowed short. No disturbed blades to show a trail, no broken branches. Crickets, also a native of Alfheim, chirped all around. Most of the trees were pines: tall with thin branches full of needles. Loki listened closely and heard nothing out of the ordinary. The flashlight revealed nothing as well.

Further into the trees he went, until the light of the half moon was drowned out and he had to rely on movement and sound to direct his steps. Zephaniah's footsteps, light and quick, ran away from the tree and back toward the fire. Loki was growing frustrated with this piece of land, and thinking of turning back, when something extra moved with the breeze and he caught the scent of Eleanore's shampoo. Unable to suppress a grin, Loki waited for it to subside before he turned to his left and clicked the flashlight on. Found Eleanore's jacket hanging over a branch.

Now it was more than personal. Loki was sorely tempted to use his magic to find her, but he would not lower himself to cheating over a stupid children's game. He grabbed the jacket with a low growl. She was nearby, watching him… or was she? Eleanore never acted on her need to be correct. She liked to _win_ , not triumph. She knew how he thought as well, and… _The tree roots._

Loki raced back through the wood until he found the tree, now devoid of occupancy. He heard four sets of laughter coming from the fire. He'd wasted too much time chasing one of them, and he'd lost all of them. It was _humiliating_.

Loki stalked back into the warm light, scowling, prepared to face his defeat and go into the house to bed and bad memories. Four pairs of eyes regarded him when he approached, and all the voices fell silent. To make matters worse, Eleanore was now holding some sort of dark-wood colored stringed instrument, sitting back in her chair as though she'd never left.

"You bested me," he forced the acknowledgment in front of everyone. That was what would have been required on Asgard, along with stories at the nightly feast of his defeat.

"Home field advantage," Eleanore waved him over. "Al fell out of a tree, so we're doing music for a while. Want to listen?"

Loki looked them all over, realizing they felt none of his shame. Rogers was watching the fire, a pensive look on his face. Zephaniah was holding another instrument much like Eleanore's only lighter colored, and he was tuning it by ear. Alan was lying on his stomach in the grass, likely healed by his cousin, scratching Dave the dog's ears. None of them were staring at him with the accusing, superior glare he'd grown used to in his youth.

He listened to the instrument being tuned. It sounded pleasant. He sat.

Eleanore started strumming chords slowly, and Zeph joined her a second later in a harmony. They played together, a rhythm that felt familiar even though Loki had never heard it before. They started singing together about an idyllic location called the Big Rock Candy Mountain where no one worked and food was easy to come by and law enforcement was incompetent. Alan joined the singing, a distant look in his eyes.

Loki settled back in his seat, feeling the tension and disappointment with himself fading away with no one to rub it in. So he'd lost, so what? Did he want to act like someone who never lost, or someone who lost gracefully? Definitely the latter, because then he could plan the demise of those who beat him without suspicion. He did not begrudge Eleanore her victory, though; it was fair and witty, and those skills would keep her safe on missions when his attention was elsewhere. No wonder she wanted a quiet suit that drew little attention. Loki was surprised she wore her current on at all, with its shining scales and noticeable bulk.

"Our grandpa used to sing that song," Zephaniah was explaining to Rogers. "Elle, let's play _'Side by Side'._ "

Whatever that meant. It reminded Loki of the shotgun he'd learned about earlier. The cousins started another different set of chords, and began singing about a lack of funds and a wealth of happiness.

"We should get to bed. Early morning again," Eleanore stood when the song was over, holding the instrument with one hand to keep it from swinging and picking up the bags of almost no food with the other.

"I'll pee the fire out," Alan volunteered.

"You will _not_ ," Eleanore informed him. "It's low, and it rained a couple days ago. Just let it burn down."

"Killjoy," Alan muttered, helping her with the supplies. Zephaniah led the way up the deck stairway, picking up Rogers' shield as they passed it and heading inside through the lace-curtained door. Rogers stayed in the kitchen, talking to June as he downed glass after glass of water and ate a banana to help himself heal.

Loki took his turn in the shower, going after Eleanore in the bathroom next to her bedroom. He washed the smoke from his hair and skin, pleased to find men's soap present as well as the women's. There was a towel cupboard, and he chose a green one because he could, hanging it next to Eleanore's purple one on the hooks that lined the door. He dressed himself in Asgardian sleeping clothes, feeling cool and refreshed after the time in front of the flames.

"Night," Eleanore called as he walked by where she and Alan were talking on the loft's sofa. They were discussing whether or not Eleanore should let the boys visit her in the city, and when a good time for that would be.

"Goodnight," Loki said, in a much calmer mood than he'd been the night before. He went into his room and left the sound barrier down, listening to the discussion dying down, the footsteps as everyone went to bed, the running water of Rogers' shower. It had been what Loki would define as a _good day_. No excitement to speak of, no harassment for personal information, fun with firearms and actual fire, and a rousing challenge, even if he'd lost it.

Was he changing? Yes. Possibly because the mind control was wearing off, making him less prone to angry outbursts, partly because he was surrounded by new people who treated him… like a person. An equal. Eleanore told no one his prisoner status, even seeming to forget it herself most of the time. Loki was just someone who lived with her, trained with Rogers, fought for the Avengers. On Midgard, he was setting himself up to become a hero. Was that who he wanted to be? Yes, again. A hero who won battles and wars and didn't kill innocent people for a lost cause. That was certainly a noble ambition. Perhaps he should tell Lydia.

He checked his cell phone. _Midnight._ It was far too late, and she would be asleep. He'd inform her later, after they got back to DC.

This was, he reminded himself, only possible if Thanos stayed out of his head. The unknown nightmares were still disturbing, and Eleanore was more than capable of making him angry beyond reason. He could always relapse. He was always a threat, even if no one around him acknowledged it. Always a monster. He'd have to remember that, too, and make sure it never affected his actions. Act the opposite of a Frost Giant, and no one would believe he really was one, even if Thor or Odin outed him for some reason. The others of the Nine could hate him, but Loki was safe for now here, on this short-lived, tenacious planet of young people who did extraordinary things.

Planning his vague future, he rolled onto his stomach and fell asleep.

 _ **A/N: Long chapter here folks, as the week winds down and I get closer to classes. *Shudder* Loki's thinking a little more clearly now, and Steve's healing up pretty well. The songs I referenced in this chapter are not my property, but they are ones my own grandparents used to sing: "Big Rock Candy Mountain," and "Side By Side."**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **Thank you for your review! I'm excited to write it as well. I think about the plot all the time, even when I should be focusing on other things. ;P Hope you continue to enjoy it!**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Have a great rest of the week! I'll try to have a new chapter up by Friday midnight again. Thank you for reading, and please rate and review!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	23. Chapter 23: S Storm

Steve slept really well that night, thanks to a relaxing day and his body's focus on healing. He fell asleep to the smell of lilacs again and woke to the scent of roasting chicken. June had placed two mostly-frozen birds in the oven to slow-cook the night before as Steve had chugged five glasses of water and talked to her. Apparently chicken noodle soup was an easy dinner to make, and the boys liked it after a day of hard work outside.

Now it was four AM, and no one else was awake. Steve made a quick, quiet trip to the bathroom and went back into his room to check his phone. Hill reported more observation, and Lydia asked how things were going at the farm. Steve replied to both of them, a thank-you and a description respectively.

He thought things were going very well overall. Loki was gradually settling down a bit in his behavior, and everyone was unwinding. Eleanore was happy to be with her family, and the twins seemed to love having everyone around. Cole and June didn't seem too put-out dealing with an extra demigod and super soldier. Steve had asked about that the night before, hinting at his willingness to help pay for food, and June had laughed and told him that he and Loki ate less than the twins' high school friends who were a nearly constant presence in the large house.

Steve felt a lot stronger today, although he wasn't about to take off and sprint his typical miles without someone as backup. Lesson learned, there. Instead, he opened his windows all the way and listened to the myriad of birds waking in the trees as dawn started graying the landscape and the clear sky. Stars winked out of existence, and the moon had set long ago.

Steve took a seat on the floor, the bed at his back, and tried meditating as Bruce had suggested once. The trick was to clear one's mind, which took practice. Steve figured early morning when no one was awake to make noise and distract him was as good a time as any, and it was a good way to start his day. It started out okay because breathing was easy, and he managed a few minutes of focus at a time before his thoughts started up and derailed onto the things he had to worry about. His team, his reactions, his nightmares. _Breathing, damn it._ His lungs felt good as they filled fully and exhaled every last bit of air. His shoulders relaxed, and he kept his back straight, and his posture was correct because he could control his body, if not his mind. He kept up the effort for about an hour, retracing himself once he realized his focus slipped.

The twins' door opened and closed, effectively freeing Steve from the task. He listened, expecting a bathroom trip or something, but Alan's footsteps continued across the loft and his voice greeted Eleanore and got a muffled reply. It sounded like she was already awake. Steve rose and stretched, drinking the last of the water from the large bottle June had lent him for the night. He took it with him as he walked into the hallway, knowing it was the first question Elle was likely to ask.

"Morning, Steve." She was seated on the floor like he had been, only her laptop and notebook were open in her lap. Alan was lying sideways across her bed, the cat on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He tilted his head back and looked upside-down at the newcomer. Elle looked Steve over, "You getting enough water?"

"Morning," Steve greeted them both, holding up the empty bottle with a smile. "Is there an assignment?"

"Top secret," Alan informed him seriously. "I'm not allowed to see."

"Fury wants a status update, so I'm typing it up quick," Elle clarified. "He wants one from you, too, but I didn't know if you were awake or what."

"I was meditating," Steve informed her, retrieving his laptop from her backpack and opening it.

"I didn't know you did that." Elle was fixated on her screen, but she could half-listen to what other people said.

"I just tried it out. I think I need some practice." Steve found the email from Fury and started typing up a quick report for the last week or so, citing how Loki's behavior was already improving and how he'd voluntarily helped save Steve's life more than once and protected Eleanore as well. It was more than encouraging. Steve just hoped SHIELD could leave well enough alone as Loki continued to get better, letting Eleanore and Steve handle him one-on-one without direct orders. Loki responded better to requests, and he helped a lot more if left to his own devices. Fury's email still contained evidence of a grudge against the demigod, and disbelief about mind control. It would hurt everyone if someone like that started ordering Loki around.

It only took about fifteen minutes for Steve to type everything up. Elle was done long before that, and she and Alan talked quietly about the day ahead, breakfast plans, whether the twins would come for a quick run.

"…If I have to," Alan groaned, rubbing his eyes. "It's our day off from weights."

"You don't have to," Elle corrected him. "Steve and Loki and I can just go."

"I'll do it if you race me," Alan decided, rolling onto his stomach and grinning a challenge at his cousin. "I'm taller than you now. Bet I can win."

"We'll see," Eleanore returned. "Get out of my room so I can get dressed."

Steve followed the command as well, donning exercise clothes in his bedroom and meeting the twins and Loki as they emerged into the hallway at the same time.

"Can you show us how to use your shield later today?" Zeph asked drowsily, gulping from a plastic water bottle.

"Sure," Steve said. "This afternoon, once we get done with fencing." Loki stayed quiet, looking like he'd just woken up as well.

Elle joined them then, and they all trooped down the stairs and out the front door into the early morning light. They made their way carefully down the steep, rocky driveway, and Steve decided on a slow pace to always keep Eleanore and the twins in sight. It wasn't just for his own protection; he was still worried about the terrorist or whoever he'd found to work for finding them even out in this peaceful countryside.

"Race?" Alan prodded, nudging his brother.

"I'll race at the end, from that big tree back to the driveway," Elle said, pointing to a spot about a quarter mile away. "If we sprint too early, we'll just be tired."

"Fine." Alan rolled his eyes, and Zephaniah shrugged.

"Are you feeling up to speed, Rogers?" Loki asked, taking a deep breath as they reached the bottom of the hill.

"Maybe." The slow-pace plan flew out the window. Steve couldn't resist the implied challenge. "I'll try to keep up, at least."

"Watch your heart rate," Elle said lightly. "I think you'll be okay, just be smart. Stop if you need to."

"Got it. I will." Steve smiled over at Loki, and they took off, only the twins' shouts of surprise catching their ears as they ran into the rising sunlight.

Loki was _fast_. Steve had to stretch himself out to keep up, and he pushed further as the dark-haired man let out a laugh and picked up the pace. Steve watched his own breathing, finding his old strength there when he needed it, and more in reserve. Days of rest had energized him again. He loosened up, his muscles singing, and went even faster until the grass and wildflowers in the ditches blurred past and he started feeling serious air resistance despite the calm morning. They were miles away from Elle and her cousins, several hills blocking their view.

"Okay, okay," Steve gasped, halting at the top of an incline after about ten minutes had passed. "We should go back."

"Now we shall truly race," Loki said, grinning and starting back without warning.

"Hey!" Steve shouted, taking off after the demigod with renewed vigor. He barely managed to catch up, and he and Loki were straining neck-and-neck as they passed the cousins about a mile and a half away from the house. They were heading back, running together in a line, with Zeph leading, then Elle, and Alan brought up the rear.

"That's not being careful!" Elle called after them, but they just ran harder.

Steve took a deep breath as he saw the driveway looming ahead, and made himself push harder. Loki did the same, and they ended up crossing the 'finish line' at around the same time, panting for air as they finally slowed down.

"That was great," Steve said, wiping sweat from his face and turning to walk back to the driveway to wait for Eleanore and the twins to return.

"It was certainly something," Loki agreed vaguely. "I did not know you were capable of such high speeds."

"Do your research," Steve goaded him, earning an eye roll. He leaned against one of the large boulders set on either side of the drive, catching his breath. Loki stood, arms crossed, doing the same. Steve looked at the wildflowers growing on the side of the road. There were light bluish-purple ones and yellow daisies with black middles standing above little white fan-flowers that grew on viney stems. It added natural beauty to the plain white gravel of the road.

"Here they come," Loki said quietly. Steve turned his attention to the east, where Elle and her cousins were running over the last hill. They stopped when they reached the agreed upon tree, and Zeph sprinted ahead to the driveway. He was pretty quick, his long legs and thin frame giving him an advantage.

"If I don't clock them, they'll argue about it for the rest of the day," he explained, pulling his phone from his pocket and pulling up a stopwatch. He raised his other hand and dropped it, and Eleanore and Alan took off, running full tilt over the rocky ground. Alan was fast, but Elle pulled ahead right at the end, flashing past Steve and Loki before she stopped a little way down the road, grinning in triumph and dodging Alan as he nearly barreled into her.

"Still got it," she said, approaching Zephaniah and looking at her time. She was a second ahead of Alan, a clear winner.

"Next you can race with us," Loki offered with a snide grin.

"Or I could just keep my lungs intact," Elle suggested, wiping sweat off her forehead. "Come on, we need to eat breakfast and get out to the back pasture. How's your heart, Steve?"

"It's good," Steve replied, following the boys up the driveway. He felt better than he had in days, even after the intense run. His legs were especially warmed up, but the rest of him was alive and awake and ready to take on the day. "Wasn't stuff supposed to be delivered yesterday?"

"It's out in the field already," Alan informed him. "We'll drive the vehicles along and unload supplies as we need them."

"Elle, are we packing a lunch?" Zeph asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Eleanore responded from where she walked between Steve and Loki. "Go change and we can figure it out over breakfast."

The twins obeyed, racing each other into the house (Zeph won) and returning as Steve and Loki and Eleanore made it to the kitchen, wearing ripped up jeans and holey t-shirts and brown clomping boots. June was cooking scrambled eggs and bacon, and there were five glasses of chocolate milk set out on the island. Elle headed upstairs, probably to change.

"Thank you, ma'am." Steve took a plate full of food and one of the glasses. He sat at the dining room table, and the twins followed him over, Zeph sitting beside him and Alan taking the end seat his mother had occupied at the first supper. Loki paused at the counter and drew his hand over his body, changing into the jeans and t-shirt he'd worn the day before. Steve guessed he was less attached to his Earth clothes than he was to his Asgard ones.

"That's awesome!" Alan exclaimed around a mouthful of bacon.

"Just a bit of magic." Loki faked modesty badly, sitting on the bench with his own plate and beverage.

"Listen up, men," June said, leaning on the back of Alan's chair and meeting everyone else's eyes. "We've got plenty of gloves for everyone, and you're expected to use them. The wooden posts have sap on them that's a really powerful carcinogen— it can cause cancer. Don't touch it, and shower as soon as you come back inside. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am." Steve frowned, wondering if this family was especially worried about cancer because of Lydia and Sandy. Was it hereditary? Would June or Eleanore or the boys get it? Questions he'd never thought of started popping up and worrying him. Lydia's illness was bad enough, but the thought of watching Elle die that young turned the eggs in his mouth to ash.

"We have extra boots, too," June continued as Eleanore came into the kitchen and got herself some breakfast, wearing a tank top and some loose jeans that were cinched with a belt at high on her waist. Her hair was coiled into a tight braid that fell down her back and swung when she moved. "They're out in the mudroom with Elle's work boots. You can try them on, see if any fit. They'll protect your toes from drops. And Zeph, grab the sunscreen."

"Okay," Zeph said, finishing his food. "Want me to start making sandwiches or whatever?"

"That would be helpful," June said, handing him lunch meat and cheese slices from the fridge and setting little plastic bags and a loaf of bread out for him. "I'll get the cooler."

"I can help too," Steve said, standing and putting his plate in the sink for lack of a better option. It was scraped clean, and could go right in the dishwasher, but he didn't know if it had been unloaded. "What can I do?"

"Help make sandwiches," Zeph said. "We need like ten, probably. Can you get the butter from the fridge?"

"Sure." Steve found the 'spreadable butter with canola oil' and got a knife from the silverware drawer. The butter was not really spreadable, and it took a long time to get each slice of bread covered evenly. Still, he and Zeph made progress, and the sandwiches piled up: turkey and ham with cheddar cheese. Charlie meowed around their feet until Zeph gave him a scrap of turkey. June brought out a cooler about the size of Steve's chest with a shoulder strap, and they packed ice and water bottles and red Powerade in the bottom of it before putting the sandwiches in a Tupperware container on top, along with a couple large bags of potato chips. They wouldn't starve.

When lunch was packed and the others had finished breakfast, Steve went upstairs and put on one of the only pairs of jeans he had, along with one of his looser white cotton t-shirts. He liked his 'breathable fabric' exercise shirts, so he wanted to avoid ripping them. He could buy more, of course, and he'd likely need another pair of jeans after this week, but he liked keeping his things as nice as possible.

"Those are my old jeans, aren't they?" Alan was asking from the white-tiled entrance room, apparently called a mudroom.

"Yep," Elle answered, handing Loki a pair of boots from a tall coat closet. "Try those. Steve, here's a pair of twelves." She knew his shoe size from helping him order online. Elle remembered things like that.

"Thanks." Steve tried the stiff-toed, dark brown leather boots on, tucking his pant legs into them as he saw Eleanore was doing. They were fairly comfortable, and they reminded him of his old army shoes from the forties.

She tossed him a colorful, patterned piece of cloth as well, like the ones she had tied around her hair and wrist. It was a bandanna, like the cowboys from old west movies wore to cover their faces. "For wiping sweat off." Steve stuck it in his back pocket.

"Wonderful," Loki commented dryly, taking the one she handed him as well. He still tied it to his wrist, apparently anticipating the hot day in the sun.

"Do you guys want baseball caps?" Alan asked, putting one on his own head. It was camouflage-colored, with the letters 'ABH' stitched in orange across the front. Loki declined with a shake of his head.

"Sure," Steve said, accepting a plain tan one that looked and felt brand new. He adjusted it to his head and turned to June for inspection. "Good enough?"

"You look like a real farmer boy," she said with a smile. "Boys, don't horse around with the barbed wire. And make sure the steeples are straight. And watch the weather. There's a chance of storms this afternoon."

"We will," Zeph assured her.

Alan just rolled his eyes and grinned. "I call driving the pickup out."

"Oh no, no, no," Eleanore said, shaking her head emphatically. "I'm not sitting in the back of that thing while you try mudding."

"But I _called_ it," Alan insisted. "Can't I drive, Mom?"

"He's gotten a lot better, Elle," June said with a wince. "If he's bad, you don't have to let him drive back."

"You'll be fine, sissy," Alan gave Elle a gentle shove, which she reciprocated. Steve wondered if June had just signed their death warrants.

When Elle had said the back of the truck, she'd meant the _very_ back. She, Steve, and Loki held on for dear life, keeping the buckets of nails and 'steeples' and tools like wire stretchers and fencing pliers and mallets from flying out as they crossed every bump the pastures had to offer. Zeph rode in the two-seater cab with Alan, and he jumped out and opened and closed the gates as they came to them. The truck went pretty slowly, and cows started following it curiously, their red and black hair shining in the sun. A few were black with white spots, like the pictures Steve had seen in books as a kid. He'd never been very close to livestock, unless you counted the horses still used in the War. Elle knew a few of the animals by name. Ronny, Pink, Red, Fuchsia, Bean, Phantom. Ronny and Bean were all black, while Fuchsia, Red, and Pink were all similar shades of brownish red. Phantom was pure white, and in an enclosure with a few other female cows, supposedly creating more babies. Elle said he was the nicest bull they'd ever had. Steve reserved his judgment of that, as the truck stopped next to a trailer full of fencing supplies and the large animal meandered over.

Elle jumped out of the pickup immediately, walking over to the bull and talking to him like she talked to Charlie. "Oh, Phantom, who's a good baby. Tum mere, good boy." Phantom stopped as she started scratching his back right where his shoulder met his neck. "Does that feel good, huh boy? Ew, dammit, stop licking me." She returned with white hair on her arms and cow slobber all over her jeans. "He's just like a giant dog."

"Dad says his next boy calf is staying a bull," Alan said, taking the bucket of tools Steve handed over the truck's side. "Especially if it's a white one."

"He's only three years old," Elle said, frowning. Steve guessed that was young for a cow. Bull. Whatever. She sprayed sunscreen on, then passed it around until everyone was covered in SPF 30 protection. Loki even accepted it, wiping the stuff on his cheeks and nose and ears. Maybe he burned easily.

"How do you milk all of them?" Steve asked, jumping to the ground.

"We don't. These are meat cows, not dairy." Zeph seemed to take Steve's misinformed question in stride. Steve felt a little embarrassed at not knowing that simple fact, but he'd grown up in Brooklyn, far from any cows, and his War tour hadn't included much talk of cattle.

As they dug the posts out of the ground one by one, Steve learned more about 'meat cows' than he'd ever needed to know. This particular breed was called Maine-Anjou, and they were classified as short-horns. Their horns were removed when they were very young in a process Alan described as 'grueling'. Steers were castrated bull calves, and heifers were females that hadn't had a calf yet. Cows had had one or more babies. Red was a cow, and Pink and Fuchsia, her daughters, were both heifers, although Pink was pregnant and due any time. Eleanore called Pink 'Punk' because the heifer had kicked her more than once. Alan and Zeph showed their choice cattle, currently pastured closest to the house, at the county fair, and they'd gotten to the Iowa State Fair once each in the past two years. Good-quality steers that won county and state fairs were sold for upwards of four thousand dollars, while the average ones that were kept in their own pasture usually went for under a thousand.

"That's why beef is so expensive to buy," Elle explained as Alan wound down the informational monologue. The kid was really knowledgeable about the farm stuff, segueing into topics Steve didn't know he didn't know. "And that's why we also grow crops instead of just using all the land as pasture."

"We stick the cows on the clayish soil so they can fertilize it," Zeph added.

"They seem to be doing a wonderful job of that," Loki commented, eyeing the manure that pockmarked the churned grass.

During the hour or so of cow information, Steve had also learned about removing old wooden fence posts, most of which were badly rotted, and taking steeples (two-pronged, curved nails) out to be reused. The panels that Elle and the twins deemed acceptable were placed in one pile while twisted or broken ones were put in another. A wooden post held up the end of each panel, and they overlapped. Two metal posts were driven into the ground for support in between and wired to the panels so nothing could get in or out. Progress was slow, but Steve and Loki picked up the technique and started moving faster. The demigod worked quietly, uncomplaining, even when one of the cows approached him and he had to push it out of the way, or when his hair kept falling out of its slicked-back style and into his eyes. He and Steve were both able to just throw the metal posts in the ground, which impressed the twins a lot.

The work was tough, but it was fun, too. Alan played music on the truck's speakers, and Steve learned some things from the eighties and seventies, and Elle requested a band called 'Queen,' which was great. The twins kept up a nearly constant storyline of things they wanted to tell Eleanore about, and she listened and gave them advice for dealing with the struggles of modern high school life.

Zeph was already fielding offers from colleges and universities. He asked about ones out East, specifically near New York, and Elle gave him a run-down and promised to hook him up with a Stark Industries internship for his first summer.

Alan was kind-of-maybe-but-not-quite dating a girl one town over, but they were having relationship problems. "She had this jerk-wad boyfriend, who's a senior, but she said she wanted to break up with him."

"So did she?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, she texted me last night and said, 'I broke up with Derek'."

"So what did you say to that?"

"I said, 'That sucks,' and went to sleep."

"You're joking." Elle started laughing when Alan looked up from digging a stubborn steeple out of a post. Steve and Loki even chuckled along at the clueless look on his face. "Alan, you did _not_ do that."

"Even I know you messed up," Zeph commented, hammering a new panel into place further down the line.

"What? I replied, at least." Alan looked around, frowning at them, then smiled along with the laughter. "What'd I do?"

"She wanted you to talk to her about it," Elle explained, still giggling. "You were supposed to say, 'Oh sweetie are you okay'"

"I was _tired_ ," Alan reiterated, shaking his head. "It was midnight, for god's sake. She wants me to stay up and sympathize?"

"Yep," Elle confirmed, wiping her eyes with the bandanna on her wrist. "But fifteen's a little young for serious relationships. Maybe you dodged a bullet."

"What do you know, you've only dated like one guy. And you were barely seventeen," Alan went back to destroying the fence, and Steve helped him wrench the steeple-free post from the ground.

"Because I know what I want," Elle retorted, smiling.

"So have you heard from her since?" Steve asked to be polite. He handed the rotten post over to Loki, who threw it over the truck into the trash pile.

"Nope," Alan grumbled. "Guess I have to apologize now."

"Not if you do not wish to pursue a relationship," Loki spoke up, setting a fresh post into the ground and spreading gravel around it.

"I do, though. Chick's hot," Alan tamped down the gravel until the post held steady.

"And everyone knows hotness is the true measure of worth," Eleanore said sarcastically, holding a panel for Zeph to secure.

"Don't be bitter just 'cause Us Magazine called you fat," Alan teased, earning a real glare from his cousin.

"Says the teenage boy reading Us Magazine," Elle snorted.

"It was on the cover in the Walmart checkout line," Zeph said. "But the online comments on those speculation websites are worse. Don't read them."

"Wasn't planning on it," Elle said, heading over to the white truck that pulled the trailer of supplies. "I'm gonna pull this ahead."

"Does your media have nothing better to do than comment on people's weight?" Loki asked curiously.

"Not all people, just women," Zeph said quietly.

"Don't start on that feminist crap," Alan begged. "You'll get Elle going, and we won't hear the end of it all day."

"It's not really crap," Steve said, thinking back to the forties when Peggy got harassed just walking across camp. Even his mother had been catcalled on her way to and from work and the grocery store and every public place she'd gone. Steve had gotten into more than one pre-serum fight against guys who treated women badly in front of him. "It's a matter of equality."

"Elle got to you first," Alan groaned. "Captain America's a feminazi."

"Al, you're an idiot," Zeph said as Steve straightened and glared at the larger boy.

"I've fought people over less," he said, using his threatening, angry voice. "Some of them _were_ Nazis."

"What are Nazis?" Loki asked, stepping between Steve and Alan and putting another metal fence post in the ground. "The term seems familiar. A mortal enemy of yours, Rogers?"

"Something like that," Steve said, knowing and appreciating that the other man was trying to de-escalate a situation. How the tables had turned. He wouldn't really have fought the kid, though. He just wanted to make him think a little. "They tried to take over the world back in the forties, and I was on the other side of the War against them."

"Would that be any affiliation with Hydra?" Loki asked. "And would you get some gravel for this?"

Steve did, tamping the rock down with enough force to crack the wooden tamping rod. "Damn. Yeah, Hydra was an offshoot."

Loki took the broken stick and magicked it back together before Steve's eyes. "I learned about them while I was browsing your history one day," he said. "The Internet is a wonderful source of information."

"It sure is," Elle said, coming back from the truck and handing out bottles of cold water. She looked back at the length of fence they'd done: the north and east sides. It was about two thirty in the afternoon, but Steve had felt full from the big breakfast. "I'd say we can break for lunch."

Steve felt his anger evaporate as they all sat on the trailer, gloves abandoned, feet swinging in the tall grass, eating delicious sandwiches and drinking Powerade. Jet arrived, leaping over the fences with ease and plopping himself in the sun to bask. The black and white cat followed a few minutes later, meowing until Zeph set it in his lap and petted it. They said its name was Cat, the Farm Wanderer. Birds with wings like arrows chased each other sharply around the field, sometimes almost dive-bombing their group. Elle called them Barn Swallows and said they plucked bugs out of the air as they flew around. There were almost no clouds in the sky, just a few cumulus ones to the west. The opinion of a teenage boy seemed tiny in comparison to the beautiful day going on around them.

"But women aren't as strong as men," Alan mused into the peaceful silence.

Steve sighed. _Guess I relaxed too soon._

"What are you on about now?" Elle asked, annoyed.

"Steve got mad about feminism, and I was just saying that it's a proven fact that women are weaker than men."

"God damn it," Eleanore's voice contained resigned exasperation, like when Charlie knocked something off the coffee table. "Why are you trying to make him mad again? How is that a good idea for you?"

"I'm just debating, like you always tell me to do." Alan was unapologetic, just like when he found out what that young lady really wanted him to say.

"Look, son," Steve started, realizing too late he'd switched into Captain America mode. "Who beat you in that race this morning?"

"That's Elle, though. I can beat any girl in my class. So can Zeph."

"Keep me out of it," Zephaniah said, shaking his head. "You've been wrong on this for years."

Steve was about to continue the argument when Elle put a hand on his arm. "You'll change your mind when you go to college."

"I'm not going to college," Alan informed her. "I'm going to be a Marine sniper."

"No." Elle lost the easy frustration, and transformed into a tense, angry version of herself. "No you're not."

"Why not?" Alan challenged.

"You don't need to go learn how to kill people and get sent overseas and ordered around and broken into something new and brainwashed, to return here all PTSD, if you get home alive." Steve and Loki both turned to look at her as she vehemently defended her opinion. Steve realized she was scared for her cousin, who was more like a little brother. She wanted him to be safe.

"You're such a hypocrite," Alan said, also getting angry. "You've known how to kill people since you were seven. You're an _Avenger_."

"The Marines don't care about soldiers like our team cares about each other," Elle insisted. "You're just a body to them. If you're going to join up, use your brain and be an engineer or drone flier or something."

"Really? This in front of Captain America, the super soldier."

"She's right about value," Steve said. "That's why I stayed with SHIELD. We keep people alive. Protect them." He noticed Loki's eyes focus on something distantly behind him. He turned and saw cumulonimbus clouds building up in the northwest. "Weather's moving in."

"It is a violent storm," Loki said. "And it is moving quickly."

"Let's secure these last two panels and head home," Zeph said, holding his phone up for everyone to see. A radar image of a large red and pink mass edged with green and yellow extended off the ends of the screen. "People are reporting tornadoes with this one."

"Tornadoes?" Steve asked, leaping down to follow the instructions. The East Coast got hurricanes, sure, but he'd never seen a tornado.

"They occur in storms with significant rotation," Elle said, switching into information mode. "The rotation is usually horizontal, but it can get so strong it turns and reaches the ground, causing varied damage depending on strength. Zeph, what were they rated?"

"Unconfirmed," her younger cousin answered, yanking steeples out as quickly as he could. "But some people reported anywhere from half to two-mile-long trails. Maybe F3."

"It goes F1 to F5, five being the worst," Elle continued, putting a new post in as Loki yanked the old one out. "Hail reports, Zeph?"

"Big," he replied. "Golf ball to baseball."

"Baseball sized hail?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we need to get inside." This was her battle attitude: focused and calm.

"I can transport us back easily," Loki offered, holding a post with gloved hands as Steve tamped gravel down.

"Thanks, but we have to get the trucks back. Al, unhook the trailer." Argument apparently forgotten, Eleanore took charge of her cousins again, and they listened. She put the last steeple in their post, and Zeph finished at the same time. "You boys ride together in the white one, and I'll drive the red one behind you."

"Don't forget to lock the gates," Zeph cautioned, gathering the tools into the bucket as a blast of cool wind flattened the grass. The storm was close enough for Steve to make out lightning and thunder clearly. The breeze smelled like clean rain. Jet rose and started back toward the house, apparently not concerned with Elle's safety.

The twins got the trailer unhooked and took off. Steve, Loki, and Eleanore squeezed into the red pickup's bench seat and sped behind them, jolting over lumps in the landscape. Steve held onto the door handle to keep from bouncing all over, and Loki braced one arm on the seat behind Eleanore and put his other hand on the ceiling. Steve was on the outer side, so he got out and closed the gates securely behind them, rushing back and jumping back in once, twice, three times until they were on the dirt road that led them a mile back to the farm house. The clouds rolled over the sun and the temperature dropped drastically on the truck's rear-view mirror display: from eighty-two degrees to seventy-five in two minutes.

"I'll park this in the big barn," Elle informed them as the first raindrops started pattering the windshield. "Then I'll pull our car in behind it."

"No time," Steve said. "It's bulletproof. It can take some hail."

"Look at the blue in those clouds," Elle said, looking in the mirror. "That means ice."

It was the same color the underside of the icebergs had been as Steve's eyes caught his last glimpses of freezing sunlight reflected through them, but he wasn't going to bring that up. "It's almost here," he said instead.

"Get the door," Eleanore said, and Steve jumped out into the rain, pulling the barn door open and flinching against the rain and flashes of lightning. Elle parked the truck and turned it off, yelling something unintelligible over the rain pounding on the metal roof.

"What?" Steve asked, already soaked through.

Elle and Loki approached him, and Elle repeated herself, "Loki said he can get us through the hail."

"Thanks!" Steve hollered at the demigod, who was glancing around at the wind-whipped trees and heavy rain.

"It will be dangerous," Loki said. "The energy may draw lightning. We must move quickly."

Steve looked out at the football field's worth of lawn they had to cross. The boys reached the door and got inside. The hail was golf-ball sized now, falling at his feet. He and Loki could survive that, but it would hurt Eleanore. He wished for his shield. "Any other ideas?"

"Just a run for it," Loki said. "Any magic at all might have the same result. If I transported us into the house or summoned something physical here, the buildings would certainly be struck."

"Let's go, then!" Elle said. "Sooner the better."

"No magic?" Loki confirmed.

"Go ahead and use it," Steve said, resigned. "Elle, you have to sprint."

They ended up rushing in a hunched over, huddled trio under the smallest energy umbrella Loki could make that would shelter them all. Things were going well, and Steve's feet weren't even getting wet thanks to the high boots. He had his arm around Elle's shoulders, an instinct from time spent protecting people with his shield. They got halfway across the yard in no time. Then Steve felt Loki's hand on his back, and he and Eleanore were launched face-first into the grass and mud just as a bolt descended from the sky with a deafening peal.

Steve couldn't see or hear anything for a few seconds, but his vision returned first, along with the perception of hail thumping against his body harshly. Then Loki swam into view, hair weirdly sticking out everywhere, lifting him by the arm and pushing him toward the house. Steve went, noting Loki picking Eleanore up off the ground as well and half-carrying her because he was running so fast. Steve kept up with him as the drumming rain gradually registered in his hearing, and they reached the porch and went inside to the warm light of electricity that wasn't trying to kill them.

"Christ, are you guys okay?" Alan asked, grabbing towels off the dryer and handing them over. Steve took one and ruffled it over his hair, actually chilled from the air conditioning and the rain. He was also dripping mud everywhere, appropriate for the mudroom. A towel wasn't going to fix that.

"Loki?" Elle was asking, her voice a bit loud. Her hearing was probably still returning, too. Loki didn't respond until she grabbed his arm. "Are you hurt?"

"My hearing is gone!" the demigod nearly shouted, making everyone jump. He looked around, noting their reactions and continued at a normal volume. "This has happened before. It will return."

Elle held up a silver-lighted hand questioningly, and he nodded, letting her place her palms on either side of his frizzy head. When she took her hands away, Loki looked at the ceiling. "Whatever baseballs are, they could wake all the souls in Hel."

"Did you get hit?" Steve asked, drying himself some more as June walked in with more towels.

"Oh my god, did you get struck by lightning?" she asked, going straight to Loki and raising a hand to his hair, which was getting bigger and frizzier as it dried.

"I am unharmed," Loki said, pulling back and accepting a towel.

June looked him over, then Steve and Eleanore, and then turned back to Loki. "Well, your hair's fried. I can give you a quick cut if you want."

Loki considered her for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, I would appreciate that."

"Okay. You three get your clothes from upstairs quick, and then come back to the main floor in case we need to get to the basement. We'll watch the radar from here." June headed into the kitchen, not waiting for a reply.

Steve, Loki, and Eleanore kicked their shoes off and moved to obey. They all closed the upstairs windows against the intruding water. Steve got another t-shirt and a soft jacket and a pair of jeans and socks before grabbing his shield as well. If the house was blown away, at least he wouldn't have to go looking for it. He met Eleanore carrying her backpack and a change of clothing, and Loki followed them down the stairs silently.

When he got back to the kitchen, June was pulling the chickens out of the oven and putting a pot of noodles on the stove. There was another towel and a paint-stained white sheet folded on the island with wireless clippers sitting on top of them.

"You can change in the music room," she said. "Loki can go in the mudroom, and Elle can use the bathroom."

Steve found the music room easily at the end of the hall, right across from June and Cole's bedroom. It had every instrument imaginable, from a violin to a trumpet to a drum set. Steve changed hastily, since there wasn't a door on this room. He felt a lot better and warmer with dry clothes on, his socks protecting him from the cold of the floor. "Can you play all these?" he asked June as he emerged with his muddy garments in hand.

"Cole can," she replied. "He taught the kids guitar and some others. Alan likes the drums and the trumpet, and Zeph's great at the violin. Elle plays the piano."

"Did Loki really get struck by lightning?" Alan asked, thumping down the stairs in a new outfit of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Zeph followed dressed similarly.

"Not directly," Loki said, coming out of the mudroom. "I've become adept at dodging it, over the years."

"Because you know Thor?" Zeph asked.

"Precisely," Loki said, not tensing up at the mention of his adopted brother. Steve hoped the boys wouldn't pursue that topic.

"Thanks for getting us out of the way," he said, drawing the attention to himself.

"I live to serve," Loki said lightly.

June had set up a folding chair on top of the sheet in the open space between the kitchen and dining room. "I can cut your hair now, if you want."

"Certainly." Loki sat down gracefully, looking kind of odd with his large mane bobbing in the air. Alan stifled a chuckle, and Loki raised an eyebrow at him. "I would see you looking so jovial after meeting with the fury of a storm."

"Sorry," the boy said, settling himself at the table. "You look cool with a 'fro."

"No lies, please." Loki closed his eyes as June put a towel around his shoulders and neck and started clipping.

"Thanks for literally kicking my ass, Loki," Elle said, coming to stand beside Steve. He looked down at her, not really believing what he was hearing.

Loki smiled genuinely and really laughed, making June pause as his head moved around. "I don't suppose you would believe me if I claimed it was unintentional."

"I do, actually," Elle said. She looked up at Steve and explained, "I think he ran out of hands, pushing you out of the way and holding the energy up, so I got the boot."

"Exactly," Loki agreed, holding still again.

Steve chuckled at the image, recalling how Elle had flown in front of him to land first in the puddles. The twins joined in, and soon everyone was lost in giggles as thunder rumbled the walls and rain hit the west windows. Charlie and Jet descended the stairs, skirting around the shaking twins. Charlie headed for Loki and jumped into his lap, curling up immediately. The laughing felt good, warming Steve from the inside out.

"Alright, alright," June said. "Let's get your hair done before the power goes out."

"This realm has a terrible problem with that," Loki said, allowing her to continue. She worked quickly, cutting the sides of his head shorter and leaving it a little bit longer on top. The hair closer to his head wasn't as fried, instead curling as June ran her fingers through it. Even though Steve was watching it happen, he had trouble getting used to this new, very human-looking Loki brushing hair off the cat in his lap. It was just weird.

"Are we playing salon?" Cole asked from behind them.

"You could be playing an instrument," June replied. "Steve liked your collection."

Her husband walked back down the hallway and went into the music room, returning a moment later with the violin. "I take requests."

"Play a metal song," Alan suggested.

"I take requests from _guests_ ," Cole amended. "Anything? Steve? Loki?"

"Old hymns," Elle suggested, sitting on the steps at Alan's knee.

"Good choice, Steve," Cole said sarcastically, drawing the bow up and closing his eyes. _Are Ye Able_ stoked memories of sunny Sunday mornings and dusty hymnals. Cole added flourishes to keep the song's repetitive melody interesting, but Steve liked it best when he just played the regular notes. It would have sounded even better on a piano, like the old Methodist church had. The violin still sounded beautiful, though.

"Sorry to interrupt the concert, but we should be watching the radar," June said, sweeping hair from Loki's shoulder with her hand. She pointed at Alan, and then a cupboard that sat in the corner of the dining room. The boy reached back and opened it, revealing a TV that he tuned to the local weather station. There was a tornado watch for their county, but that didn't seem to worry any of the Iowa natives, so Steve just listened absently to the reported destruction around the state. Trees blown over, shingles taken away, creeks and rivers flooding. There were pictures and videos of tornadoes, which held Steve's attention, their dark forms twisting through the hail and rain.

"We could play a board game," Zeph suggested.

"Let me guess," Elle said, tying her hair back into a braid. "Risk?"

"Give yourself a prize," Zeph responded, opening a closet in the hallway and extracting the game. Steve read the slogan. _Risk: The Game of World Domination._ This would be right up Loki's alley.

They gathered around the dining room table. Outside was almost dark as night, and it was only four in the afternoon. Loki joined them and snagged the green set of pieces before Zeph even started explaining the rules. Steve took the blue ones, Alan the red, and Zeph chose black. Cole came in at the last minute and decided to be yellow. Eleanore declined to play, instead helping June de-bone the chicken and putting some risen bread dough in a white square machine that whirred on the counter top.

Steve and Loki got the rules of the game quickly, and they started placing pieces. Loki took Europe and Asia, and Steve took over North and Central America, developing strongholds everywhere someone could invade from. Zeph concentrated his pieces in South America, and Alan got Australia and New Zealand. Cole took over Africa.

Zeph started off aggressively attacking Loki's hold on North Africa, which wasn't heavily fortified. He got it, and placed a few troops there. Everyone else used their turns to strengthen their holdings, and Steve started planning for a hostile takeover from Alaska to Kamchatka. Loki was his biggest opponent, and unlike chess, Steve had experience with this type of 'warfare'. The map and gameplay reminded Steve of the War, when he'd helped plan the Commandos' next moves and delivered intel on newly discovered Hydra bases. Still, he was sure Loki had had formal lessons of battle tactics and strategy, and the guy was a genius in his own right. It would be a long game.

"So what kind of progress did you make today?" Cole asked.

"We got the north and east sides of the back pasture done. Probably could have gotten the whole thing if the storm hadn't come up," Alan said. "We brought both trucks in, but we left the trailer out there."

"That's good," Cole said. "I'm attacking Brazil."

It went on like that. Steve lost his attack on Kamchatka, and Loki destroyed Alan and took over Australia. Alan had to leave the game, but he just went and talked to his mom and cousin in the kitchen. He really loved Eleanore, Steve could tell, but he also liked to say things just to make her or other people angry. He was an instigator, like Dougan had been. Mostly harmless, but offensive in the right situations. Still, Steve was willing to bet that if someone _else_ called Eleanore weak or insulted her, they'd be fighting Alan first.

Steve took over Iceland once he'd withdrawn from Kamchatka, and Cole started an offensive from North Africa to Western Europe and won. Loki used his extra troops to take Egypt and East Africa in a surprise move that made the older farmer groan. Zeph also took North Africa from his dad, and then he and Loki demolished Cole's defenses together. While they were focused on that, Steve hemmed in his continent with troops and set himself up to take Great Britain and Scandinavia, which he did. From there, it was a quick sweep of Europe, but he hit a wall when it came to Asia. The joke was not lost on him, but Loki didn't understand it until Alan explained from the kitchen. Zeph started invading from Venezuela, but he only whittled Steve's Central American forces down, and they were replaced faster than he could take them out. Sparing troops there, though, weakened his European defenses, and Loki assailed relentlessly from Afghanistan and Ural. Charlie attacked Steve's sock-clad toes under the table, which distracted him badly. He jokingly accused Loki of controlling the cat, and the dark-haired man rolled his eyes.

"Supper," June called. It smelled wonderful, especially the fresh bread.

The storm was still raging outside, but no tornado warnings had been issued for their county yet. Risk was moved to the middle of the table, and everyone gathered around and watched the new damage reports and the reporters whose job it was to stand in the hail and rain and yell into a microphone. If it was later in the season, Cole said, the hail would have devastated the crops. As it was, there wasn't much to flatten, and the ground was warm enough from the past weeks of thaw to keep the vast majority of the little plants alive. June mourned her flowers, which were pretty much buried under melting ice. The hail had let up some, only pea-sized pellets falling from the sky for the present. The thunder and lightning grew closer and more distant in waves, and Steve could see more severe patches of weather moving on the radar.

The warmly lit room seemed isolated from the violence outside. June and Cole sat beside each other on the bench, and Eleanore sat to her aunt's right. Steve was next to her at the end of the table, and Loki was on his right with the twins rounding out the seating arrangement and asking question after question about other planets and being magical and what all he could do. Loki was patient with them, although he answered some things with sarcasm and evasions, as usual. He'd talk freely about his magic and any planets other than Asgard, but when it came to his home realm he clammed up and artfully changed the subject. Steve figured he probably missed being there, even if he wouldn't admit it. That, or there were enough bad memories connected to the place that Loki avoided them at all costs. Both were entirely possible.

Still, it was interesting to hear about the other realms. The whole family quieted down to listen to the demigod speak. Steve liked the sound of Alfheim with its open magic users and magical technology. Loki talked about their forest cities and the way they used energy to live in harmony with the land. Muspelheim, on the other hand, was a harsh place full of volcanoes and fire-based beings that would burn you as soon as you ticked them off. Almost no one went there if they could help it. Vanaheim was a lot like Earth, but its culture was focused on education over combat. They learned a form of self-defense fighting that sounded like martial arts, involving hand-to-hand moves that used the opponents' strength and mass against them. Loki had studied there for a while after he was done learning intensively about magic.

Nidavellir was the realm of dwarves, and it was barren and uninhabitable aboveground during the day because of its close proximity to its sun. At night, though, visitors could enjoy the clear sky and interesting constellations. Underground were vast cavernous cities and mines for precious metal, which was what most of the planet was made of. The dwarves traded inventions (Loki called them 'workings') made of ingenious metal and magic combinations for food from other realms because all they could grow was fungi, most of them poisonous. That realm was also the first place a person could look to for assassination serums. Similarly, Niflheim was barren and dark, and home to creatures that lived that way. Legend said it was where the dishonorable dead were sent for eternal torment, but Loki discarded that as a myth. Hel was completely uninhabited, with no atmosphere and a pure red wasteland. It was also listed as a resting place for _really_ bad people, and a half-dead, half-alive woman was said to appear to anyone who stayed there over-long. Again, Loki debunked the myth, chalking it up to insanity and oxygen deprivation.

"Wasn't there one more?" Zeph asked when Loki seemed like he was done. "Didn't you say there were nine?"

"Yes," Loki conceded, clearly forcing nonchalance. "Jotunheim. Home of Frost Giants and not much else. It is comparable to your colder regions here, always covered in snow and ice." Steve knew why he didn't want to talk about this one: Loki hated the Frost Giants and he'd tried to destroy them.

"Alan, help me clean up so they can get back to the game," Elle said brightly. She stole Steve's plate and bowl and took Loki's when he handed them over. Alan took the rest, and they worked together to clear the dishes out of the kitchen and put the leftovers away.

"Brownies?" Alan suggested, and they messed up the kitchen again as Steve gradually hammered his way into South America, keeping an eye out as Loki set up more troops as defenses. Halfway through taking Argentina, Steve realized Loki was playing him and Zeph against each other, and he'd take whoever won out and control the world.

"Truce?" Steve said, withdrawing.

"An alliance?" Zeph asked. "I was wondering when you'd figure out his plan."

After that, Loki was kept busy as Zeph attacked from Africa and Steve from Europe. It took a couple hours and tons of planning and re-planning, but they eventually backed Loki into Australia. Unfortunately, the demigod seemed to have accounted for that, unleashing hell in the form of hundreds of troops he'd stationed there. Steve and Zeph's troops had been stretched thin, but Loki took the bottom half of Asia first and then Africa, then South America, apparently exacting revenge for the team-up. Then it was just him and Steve, and they were about evenly matched.

"If you want, you could sign a treaty and divide the world between you," Elle said, munching on a cream cheese brownie and observing the stalemate.

"I will take Asia and Africa and Australia," Loki said. "You may have Europe and the Americas."

"That's fine," Steve grinned. He'd been getting bored with the game once it turned into a battle-based no-win situation. "If you declare a democracy for your countries."

"They may elect me as ruler for life," Loki smirked. "I will be a philanthropic tyrant. And upon your untimely end, I will take your countries into my fold."

Zeph and Eleanore and Alan were all laughing at the exchange. Elle set a couple brownies in front of Steve and Loki. "Commemorate with a peaceful feast. No poisoning."

The treats were really good. Steve and Loki picked up their pieces from the board and put them back in the little plastic boxes before folding the board and turning their attention back to the television. The county was still under a tornado watch, and it looked like they might actually get hit with one, as the curved tail end of the storm was set to pass over them. The wind and rain were picking up again, and the night was lit only by lightning with increasing frequency. Steve kept doing double-takes when he looked at Loki because he didn't recognize him with the new haircut.

The family gathered in the living room around the larger TV over the fireplace. Zeph picked up Steve's shield and Alan test-punched it, bruising his knuckles. Elle refused to heal that injury because he'd just do it again. The lights kept flickering as the wind picked up, but they didn't go out. A tornado was reported in the county to the north, moving southeast, but June and Cole made no move toward the basement. Pictures of cars with busted windows, ice stacked inches deep, and flooded streets played across the screen in between live reports.

"We could camp in the living room like when we were kids," Alan suggested as the hour approached ten.

"Once the end of the storm passes, you guys can go to bed," June replied. "I don't think we'll get hit with anything. Just another fifteen minutes or so and we'll be in the clear."

That turned out to be true. The lightning and thunder subsided gradually, and left only light rain in its wake. The radar showed that the scattered showers would be gone by morning.

"I believe I had had my share of excitement," Loki said, rising from his seat near the picture window. "May you all have peaceful evenings."

"Goodnight," June waved to him as he ascended the stairs. "Boys, you too. Elle, I won't boss you around, but you've been getting up early."

"Yeah," Elle got up and pulled the twins with her. "Night."

Steve was left with June and Cole, who still watched the reports on the television. Steve wasn't too tired yet, but he couldn't tell whether they wanted him to leave them alone or not. He settled for 'or not' as Cole headed off to bed, too, complaining about a nap the storm had interrupted.

"Supper was great," Steve told June.

She smiled at him. "Thank you. I'm thinking lasagna for tomorrow night. It's Elle's favorite."

"I haven't tried it," Steve frowned. "She made me some, though, for a… freezer meal."

"Yeah, it freezes well," June nodded. "And we can have leftovers from tonight for lunch, if you guys take a break and come back in."

"We might," Steve sighed, remembering the near-fight from that afternoon. "Alan likes to argue with Elle."

"Oh yeah he does," June laughed. "It doesn't help that they're polar opposites. Somehow, though, they're still really close."

"They got over it quickly today," Steve granted.

"Sorry if they stressed you out," June apologized. "We're a loud family."

"It wasn't bad," Steve smiled. "I've seen a lot worse."

June was quiet for a second, looking out the window at the dark rain. "Loki really does protect you, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Steve answered simply, wondering where she was going with this.

"Lydia told me about him… all of it," June continued. "I didn't know what Elle had gotten herself into. But I see it now. You're all helping each other."

"I don't know how much help I am," Steve shrugged. It made sense for Elle's family to be concerned, but she handled herself (and everyone else) pretty well. "Loki's actually a good teammate, though. You don't have to worry too much about him."

"Well," June said, standing with a sigh. "I'll hit the hay. Thanks for all your work today. Feel free to watch whatever you want, just turn off the TV when you go to bed."

"Yes ma'am," Steve said, accepting the remote. He flipped through the guide, landing on an old movie he recognized: _Stagecoach_ featuring a young John Wayne. It was more than a little unfair to Native Americans, with Apaches as the main, undeveloped antagonists, but Steve had seen it before and he liked the familiar black and white imagery. He caught the tail end of the movie, when the Plummers and Ringo were having a shootout. The gunshots sounded nothing like real life, and they didn't bring back any bad memories for him.

When that was over, it was almost midnight. Steve headed upstairs and quietly showered in the hall bathroom. He was pleasantly worn out from the exercise of the day. He wondered if Loki would race him again tomorrow, and whether they could get most of the next pasture done as well.

When he got back to his room, his laptop was sitting on his bed with a note on top of it. _"Check your email. ~Elle"_ Steve did as the scrawled writing commanded, and found one from her with links to different videos for guided meditation and websites about the topic. Yep, she handled everyone really well, even if they didn't notice it right away. Steve turned his computer's volume to mute and checked through the videos, choosing one on mindfulness to try the next morning. After that, he sat on his bed and checked his phone.

A text from Hill told him that the terrorist's name was Serkan Tiryaki, and he was set to meet with an unknown person in two days. They'd traced him back to his hotel room and had planted a tracker in his suitcases, but so far nothing had moved. They suspected he was going to sell some of the biological weapons and get back in the international terrorist game. SHIELD was going to hold back until they'd pinpointed his buyer.

That sounded risky, but it wasn't Steve's operation to run. He texted an all-clear and rolled into bed with a sigh. Another fairly good day, even if they did almost get struck by lightning. June had apparently warmed up to Loki, also good, and the boys were comfortable around them. Steve made a mental note to show them how to use his shield the next day, since they hadn't gotten the chance that evening.

The rain had stopped, and the chickens were clucking again as he finally drifted off to sleep.

 _ **A/N: With this chapter, 'One Day at A Time' reached 150,000 words! I'd love to know what you, the amazing readers, think of it so far.**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **Thank you, I loved writing the last chapter. Loki is settling down, which is nice. It's hard to write him angry all the time. Hope you enjoyed this installment as well!**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Have a great weekend!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	24. Chapter 24: L Through

Loki did not sleep well that night for fear of more nightmares. He tossed and turned and finally explored the house further, finding a little alcove behind the stairs that housed a couple of bookshelves and a large wooden instrument with white and black sections under a folding lid. He explored the many books and took a few back to his room, where he read until he heard Rogers stirring as dawn broke.

The morning saw another race that made Loki feel alive and almost normal, whatever that meant now. The dirt road was mostly mud, so there was an extra challenge to stay on the gravel hills where car tires did not normally stray. His whole body felt light, but especially his head because most of his hair was now missing. It felt strange, and when Loki had looked at himself in the bathroom mirror the night before he'd been worried about changing himself too much. But upon further inspection in the morning, he decided he liked the effect. He no longer looked quite Asgardian or Midgardian, and certainly not Jotun. And the new hair style drew his attention away from his eyes, which still sometimes troubled him.

But once the race was over, there was no time to dwell on such matters. Eleanore roped them into chores as they made their way back to the house for breakfast. "Plenty of time to eat after," she said. She showed them a mesh wagon to be pulled by hand from the barn and sent Loki and Rogers around the yard to pick up fallen branches for delivery to the fire pit. Loki could see the red truck parked in the middle pasture with a blue trailer, and the boys were leading one of the red cows into it while Cole supervised. June passed them with a bucket of gardening tools, saying breakfast was put on hold until the damage was assessed. The storm's wind and hail had ripped some shingles off the garden shed and the chicken coop, and knocked over all the viney rows in the vegetable garden. The purple flowers on the driveway bushes were mostly stripped.

The branches were soon discarded in a neat pile for later use, and Loki followed his ears to the chicken coop, where Eleanore was talking to the birds. "I see you chose the simplest task."

"I'm getting a snake out of here, get out of the way," she retorted, focused on something in the far corner. _Not an order._ The multicolored chickens were clucking nervously, eyeing Eleanore's back. Their feathers ranged from orange-yellow to black, and they were obviously all different breeds.

"A snake?" Rogers asked, stepping forward.

"Move, please," Eleanore said again, stepping back with a black coil taller than she was. She came into the sun, holding the thing's head. Its body stretched from her raised arm to kiss the ground. "It's just a bull snake. They eat eggs and chicks, small things like that. It's not venomous, it's a constrictor." She laid the shiny length on the grass so it would calm down, holding it still in her hands. Loki and Rogers crouched to look at it as the forked tongue tasted the air.

"Will you kill it?" Loki asked, wondering if she'd hesitate at the gruesome task.

"No, no," Eleanore said, shaking her head. "They eat mice, too. I'll put him in the woods, and he'll hang out in the trees and eat rodents." The dog bounded over and started barking at the snake, which made it coil around Eleanore's arm. "Dave, stop," she shouted, and the dog quieted, still sniffing.

Rogers slowly reached out his hand and petted the scaly hide. Loki did the same. "It is strangely dry."

"He looks wet because his scales are new," Eleanore explained. "He just shed his skin. That's how I knew he was in there. You guys want to get the rest of the eggs while I drop him off?"

"Uh, sure," Rogers said, opening the coop again and picking up the bucket. "Just… take them?"

"Right out from under the chickens," Eleanore affirmed. "There might not be very many. They were stressed out about this guy."

"I will accompany you for the beast's disposal," Loki decided. He wanted to see where it would truly go. He followed Eleanore back to the stand of trees behind the house where the grass was allowed to grow tall.

"Do you want to hold him before we let him go?" she asked, holding her arm out to Loki. He could feel calm coming off her in waves, which was probably why the coil had relaxed. Loki held out his hands, and Eleanore draped the snake over them. "He's a big one. Don't tell Aunt June about him, though, or she'll make Uncle Cole kill him."

"She is afraid of snakes?" Loki asked, letting the scales shift over his arm. It was trying to get to the sunlight again. Loki had seen such creatures before, but they were usually slithering away or trying to attack him. In his childhood he'd had almost as many nightmares about giant snakes as he did about Frost Giants.

"Yeah, pretty bad. But Bully here is harmless, except to the chickens. Want to let him go?"

Loki didn't answer, except to crouch in the grass so the snake could slide away. It did, meandering between the tall fronds until it was no longer visible. "It was quite calm."

"Takes them a lot of energy to move, especially when they're cold," Eleanore explained. "Come on, let's see if Henny Penny attacked Steve yet."

"You name the birds as well?" Loki asked, jogging behind her back up the hill to the coop.

"Only a couple, and always the same names. This is Henny Penny the seventh. There's also China, Elvis The Rooster, and Fustercluck— but we call her Fusty in front of Aunt June," Eleanore said. "My grandma named the first Henny, and she roamed free and sat on the front porch until she got eaten by a hawk."

"A harsh ending," Loki commented as they reached the coop and found Rogers emerging with a few eggs in the little basket.

"Harsh ending for what?" Rogers asked, handing the basket over.

"Chickens who get carried off by hawks," Eleanore said. "Did the girls give you any trouble?"

"Not really." Rogers shrugged and gave a half grin.

"Okay, now we can cook breakfast," June said, walking past them and gesturing for them to follow her the house. They did, and she took the eggs away from Rogers and cracked them into a bowl. Loki understood then why eggs were such a staple in this family's diet.

"So what's the plan for today?" Eleanore asked, pulling the loaf of bread out and sticking pieces of it in the toaster. Loki had identified it by what it did to the bread.

"Well, I have to work all day," June began, moving the eggs around with a spatula as they cooked. "So your uncle's going to head out with the guys, and you can stay here and repair the roofs and outbuildings."

"That won't take me very long," Eleanore said, buttering pieces of toast and putting them on a plate face up, then face down, and so on.

"The sheds need painted, too," June said. "Cole thinks Pink's going to have her calf today, so I wanted to keep you close."

"Oh, okay." Eleanore accepted that explanation readily. "I could mow, too."

"Sure," June agreed. "Are you boys okay with that plan?"

"Sounds good ma'am," Rogers said. Loki nodded when June looked to him. A whole day with only the Captain looking over his shoulder sounded rather pleasant, even if it was spent in menial labor. His standards had fallen far. At least he was in the process of enjoying parts of the journey.

The front door opened, and the twins and their father entered the room in loud stomps and ongoing conversations that swept everyone else in the room up.

"Elle, Pink's in the barn paddock."

"She's about ready to pop."

"The paint and brushes are in the garden shed."

"She said she'd mow, too."

"Have you done a recent ultrasound? How's the cord looking?"

"You can see the baby kicking through her stomach."

"Loki, do you have any special weapons?"

"Shield practice after work today?"

"Yeah, sure."

"You can examine her after breakfast."

"Dish up," June ordered, bringing all the talking to a halt. Everyone grabbed plates and took servings of eggs and buttered toast. They ate quietly, Loki and Rogers remaining at the counter, Eleanore standing there as well, the twins and their parents at the table.

"Alright, have a good day guys, bye," Eleanore put her plate in the dish washing machine and swiftly departed.

"She gets excited about the babies," Alan explained after she was gone.

Loki didn't answer, instead listening to the conversations that started up again. The boys were taking bets on when the heifer would give birth. June and Cole were talking about buying more flowers for the demolished garden. Loki finished his food and went upstairs to dress in appropriate work attire, since his clothes from the day before were in June's washing machine. He found another pair of jeans and another t-shirt, and the rest was simple. The weather was much cooler today, and June had mentioned the high temperature not reaching sixty, whatever that meant. The truck's mirror the day before had read eighty-two and then dipped into the seventies, so Loki guessed that sixty must be a drastic change. The run had been more invigorating with the cold air rushing by, filling his lungs, chilling his skin. Of course, he'd never hated the cold. Monsters such as himself relished it.

"You ready?" Rogers asked, peeking around Loki's open door and disrupting his dismal thoughts. "I think they're heading to the trucks.

"Of course." Loki followed him out of the house into the sunlit lawn. Eleanore waved to them as she walked by with a belt of tools strapped around her hips and a large white hat on her head like the field workers of Alfheim wore. She carried a stack of flexible black plates that matched the roofs of the shed and chicken coop in one hand, and a ladder was swung over her shoulder. The dragon and the dog loped at her heels.

Loki rode in the cab of the white truck with Cole, and Rogers rode with the twins in the red one. The trip was just as choppy, and they nearly got stuck in the new mud several times.

"It's going to be a messy day," Cole commented. "But the dirt'll be easy to move."

"Thank goodness for that," Loki said dryly. He looked around sharply as he exited the truck, making sure he could discern manure from dirt. In a pasture, though, it probably made no real difference. At least these cattle were not overly disgusting.

He reversed that thought when Phantom walked right up and ran a slobbering tongue over his trouser leg.

"He likes jeans," Zeph said, pushing the bull away. "We don't know why, but if anyone's ever wearing jeans, he licks them."

"Delightful." Loki started ripping metal posts out of the ground to vent his frustration. He accepted the gloves handed to him before he tackled the wooden ones. The mud was everywhere, all-consuming and unavoidable. Loki resigned himself to his fate.

Cole's presence made the work go faster. The boys had much less to say to him, and he assigned tasks for maximum efficiency. Loki and Steve removed posts and replaced them, and the twins tamped gravel down and nailed panels. Across the southern side, which lay on the slope of a hill, they pulled barbed wire over the top of the fence to deter any energetic cattle from attempting a jump. When they reached gates, Cole showed them how to firmly secure two posts together with a series of wood planks called 'two-by-fours'. They finished the back pasture within three hours, and got another side of the middle one done before they stopped and rode back for lunch. They found Eleanore wearing no shoes, short pants and a sleeveless shirt, nearly as covered in paint as the buildings she was working on. She declined joining them for the meal, saying she wanted to finish painting first.

"We might get done today," Alan said excitedly as they settled in for a quick lunch of the leftover soup from the night before. It tasted just as good re-warmed, and Loki had two servings as Charlie curled up in his lap and he listened to the twins' plans for what they would do once they were done repairing things around the farm.

Alan wanted to go to the local pool which, Loki gathered, was a local swimming place for teenagers to spend time half-naked together. He'd seen advertisements for such locations on the large boards all over the road to this place. Zephaniah wanted time to work with his forge and maybe set up a little shelter near it with spare wood and metal sheeting. They both wanted to work with their cattle for showing at the 'fair'. _It must be like a market on Asgard._ Goats were far more common for consumption there, whereas oxen were used to pull carts and farm equipment. Horses were for riding, and not every family bothered to have one, instead renting from city stables if they needed to make a trip.

When they went back out to the pasture, everyone was in high spirits, Loki included. The day was indeed much cooler than the one before, and there was an end to the work in sight. He started yanking poles out of the ground as soon as the boys unsteepled them, tossing the rotted ones onto the trailer now cleared for that purpose. He worked in a frenzy, slowing only to let the others catch up. Their slow pace was arduous, but the pleasant weather made up for much of it.

"Loki, hang on a second. Loki." The Captain halted him with a hand on his arm, holding out a water bottle.

Loki met his eyes coolly. "Steven." He tried the name out, and it wasn't terrible. Better than calling the other man 'Captain' all the time, which was growing boring.

"Drink something, okay? We're making great progress. And you can call me that if you want. My name, I mean." 'Steven' leaned back against the trailer where the other men were talking about plans for a new outbuilding.

Loki took the water and drained it with a sigh. "We should be finished with this project today."

"We will be," Cole promised. "We can work until six or seven, and that should be more than enough time. Thanks for all your help; this would normally take a couple weeks with my work schedule and everything."

"Thanks for having us," Rogers said. Steven. Loki couldn't decide what to call him, yet. Most people said 'Steve'.

The time was now three o'clock, and they set back into the work with new energy. They were rounding out the last pasture, working their way up to the barn. A buzzing sound that had been going for over an hour ceased, and as they approached the lawn Loki saw the grass was freshly cut. The spotted dog and the black and white cat jumped through one of the gates and started following them around excitedly, getting in the way more often than not. Loki was careful not to hit them with thrown posts, but the boys tripped and fell as they tried to avoid the animals. Thankfully, there was just one side left to complete as the paddocks around the barn were more recent additions.

"There," Alan said with satisfaction as the last gate was hung and chained shut. Of course, they had to open it again to drive the trucks through, but the work was complete. Loki walked back to the house as the mortals placed their vehicles carefully in the outbuildings. Charlie greeted him, but Loki declined returning the cordiality until he'd rid himself of the mud-caked boots and jeans he wore. He magicked Asgardian leggings into place just as Eleanore walked in from the kitchen, also fairly covered in grime.

"Oh, they'll help you wash your boots out at the well," she said upon catching sight of him.

"Marvelous." Loki sighed. "I shall reverse my efforts and return to the slime outdoors."

"No, here, I'm heading out anyway," Eleanore picked up the boots and left without waiting for an answer. She still wasn't wearing any shoes, stepping over the gravel gingerly. Loki saw her crossing the lawn to meet Rogers and her family gathered in front of the barn. A hose sprayed a steady stream of water out, and they cleaned their shoes with that. Then Alan took Eleanore's arm and pulled her out of sight toward the pasture, likely showcasing the work they'd done. Zephaniah followed them, and Rogers and Cole headed back toward the front porch carrying all the discarded boots.

Loki went into the kitchen and found June layering floppy pasta on top of meat in red sauce and a white dairy product. "Lasagna," she explained eloquently.

"So it is," Loki acknowledged. He kept his tone amicable and smiled in spite of his weariness from lack of sleep. He was _trying._ "May I be of service?"

"Sure, you can help with this if you want." June stepped to the side, and Loki came around the counter to observe. "I'll put the noodles on, and you spread the meat, then the cottage cheese."

Loki did as he was asked. "What is cottage cheese made of?"

Eleanore came back inside then, and meandered swiftly through the kitchen toward the second level stairs. "Yum, lasagna."

"It's milk that's curdled, but it tastes good," June explained, ignoring the interruption. "You can try some when we're done with the spoon."

"Perhaps." Loki thought curdled milk sounded disgusting, and wondered why anyone would waste good meat on a concoction containing it. He still added it, though, planning on avoiding supper if it smelled rotten once it was cooked.

"Could you hand me the shredded mozzarella from the fridge?" June asked after the top layer of pasta was set.

"Of course." Loki opened the white double doors (different from the top-freezer, bottom refrigerator Eleanore possessed) and found what he was looking for in a clear plastic drawer. "Here you are."

"Just spread it on top," June said, turning to the sink. "You can use the whole bag— it's a big pan."

Loki dumped the shreddings out, then tossed them around with his fingers. Charlie mewled pathetically at his feet, so when he was done Loki knelt and offered him a piece of the cheese. The cat sniffed it, licked it, then walked away. "Ungrateful creature."

"That's a cat," June agreed. "Picky, picky, picky."

"I would say 'discerning'." Loki grinned up at her, then stood up straight.

"No wonder you get along with Lydia so well," June observed, setting the heavy pan in the oven with a squint. "You're both so literal."

"That is one explanation," Loki said, wondering what the woman meant. Before he could ponder it too long, however, gunshots tapped a sharp report against the walls. They did not come from a shotgun. "Excuse me."

Loki walked swiftly from the house, then sprinted to where the sound was coming from: just below the observational deck. He stopped just before he came into view and listened closely.

"That was great," Zephaniah said. "Now, how do you throw the shield?"

Rogers was teaching them about weaponry, damn him. Loki stepped out onto the flat piece of land lined with tall grasses and walked over to the trio of men who stood in front of several animal-shaped targets stacked on hay bales. "A bit of warning would be reasonable before you enacted a violent battle."

"Sorry," Rogers said, turning around to face him. "We thought you were in the shower."

"I am sorry to disappoint." Loki held out his hand, and Zeph handed the great shield over. It was incredibly light. "What is vibranium?"

"Rarest metal on Earth," Alan said. "That's the only sample."

"It's really light and strong," Zephaniah continued. "And it absorbs any energy put into it. So, like, if a tank fired at it, the round would just bounce off."

"I see." Loki put his arms through the straps experimentally. He looked up at Rogers. "Do you mind?"

"Go ahead." The man stepped back so Loki had a clear shot.

Loki gripped the strap loosely as he'd seen the Captain do, and hurled the disk as hard as he could. It smashed through a horned target and stuck fast in the hay behind.

"You killed the deer!" Alan whooped. He and Zephaniah ran down the range and brought the shield back. "Now we have to make a new buck target."

"My apologies," Loki said.

"No, that was awesome," Alan assured him. He turned his attention to Steve. "Can I try it now?"

"Sure." Rogers helped the boy adjust his hold, then dodged as Alan whipped the shield through the air. It sailed over the hay bales and into the pasture beyond.

"I'll go get it," the larger twin said dejectedly.

"Race you," Zeph offered. They took off at a fast clip, disappearing within moments.

"Their energy is boundless," Loki noted, feeling more weary just watching them.

"They're kids," Rogers said, as though that explained everything. "Life's fast when you're fifteen."

"Mm. Not so long ago for you," Loki commented.

"Seventy-nine years," Rogers said grimly, the old sadness slinking into his eyes. "And it feels like a thousand."

"I feel the same way," Loki jested, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve chuckled. "No need to remind me, old man."

 _What in Hela's name am I doing?_ He was sympathizing again, even trying to assuage his captor's pain. Unacceptable. "I will leave you to your revels."

"You can stay," Rogers called, but Loki just kept walking away until he reached the house again.

"Hey," June greeted him. "I think Elle's out of the shower. Throw your shirt down if you want me to wash it."

"Thank you, I can take care of it." Loki was becoming too reliant on these mortals. He was doing their work, wearing their clothing, laughing at their jokes, saving their pitiful lives. He strode up the stairs and into his room, shutting the door. He needed to get away from this place and its warm isolation, and there was only one destination he might be allowed to visit.

"Jeeze!" Lydia exclaimed when he appeared in her room, staggering a bit from the vertigo of a long trip. As mortals went, she was the least of all evils. Unfortunately, Loki noticed too late the greenish pallor of her skin, the bucket next to her that held a plastic bag, and the general smell of sickness in the room. It was too late, though. She'd processed his presence. "Are you okay?"

"I am." Loki stood awkwardly, gesturing to the bucket. "I can leave if you are unwell." Why had he even come here? This was no escape from mortals. He hadn't even thought it through. Was this the effect of mind control? Devolving his logic until he acted on instinct and urges alone?

"It's just the chemo," Lydia said. "I get sick after treatment sometimes. You can stay if you want."

He didn't want to, but he felt obligated. _Stupid, getting attached to these leaves on the wind._ He sat down in his customary chair. "I helped your nephews fence your farm."

"I heard," Lydia grinned shakily. "How did that go?"

"It is done," Loki said. "Your daughter did not help today."

"I called her this afternoon," Lydia nodded. "She was repairing the roofs on the sheds and picking up new flowers and planting them and mowing the lawn and checking on Pinky."

"Indeed." Loki hadn't noticed the new flowers in his hurry to get back to the house. Lydia didn't say anything else, and he figured she didn't feel well enough to carry a conversation with an angry god. "I will leave you to rest."

"Before you go, could you hand me a gl—" Lydia trailed off, her face going slack, then doubled over the bucket, retching. Loki's stomach turned. He hadn't seen anyone throw up since he was a boy.

 _A glass of water_ , his mind finished the cut-off sentence. Right. He could do that much. He went into the little kitchen and brought back a tall glass filled nearly to the brim. Lydia was finished spewing unholy fluids, and she gratefully drank half the beverage.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice rasping.

Loki felt his heart softening slightly with damnable pity. "Can I do anything else?"

"No, it's fine. Sorry to gross you out." She rose slowly and tied the bag up, throwing it away in the garbage can near her chair. Then she put a new bag in the bucket from a supply in the pocket of her yellow robe.

"Surely I can help in some way," Loki insisted, glad she hadn't asked him to dispose of the waste. While he was here, he might as well assist. He looked around the room and lighted on an open cupboard with washcloths. He got a few, filled them with ice from the freezer ( _monsters like myself could freeze the cloths instead_ ) and gave them to Lydia.

She placed one on the back of her neck. "How'd you know to do that?"

"I remembered it," Loki said simply. When he was younger, he'd suffered from the normal childhood ailments. Aesir and Jotun children apparently both had weak immune systems until they reached around ten years of age and toughened up. "My mother— Frigga Allmother used to do the same thing when I was a child."

"Well thank you. It helps a lot." Lydia sighed and leaned her head back to rest on the chair. "How are you doing?"

"Well, thank you." Loki wasn't about to burden this woman with his personal problems.

"Elle said you seem a little happier, sometimes," Lydia tried again.

"A gross exaggeration," Loki smiled sarcastically as Lydia chuckled.

"But are you liking Earth better?" she pressed.

"It is better than my last extended residence," Loki said sincerely.

"Where was that?"

"A barren rock that made up in torture what it lacked in atmosphere." He couldn't believe he was talking so casually about Thanos' prison, and to a sick woman. But perhaps her very illness made her non-threatening enough to divulge secrets to.

"You were tortured?" Lydia asked, clearly concerned. "Does Eleanore know about this?"

"I believe so," Loki frowned. "It's one of the reasons she keeps me."

"Do you ever talk to her about it?"

"This is the first time I've brought it up," Loki said testily. "I can stop, if you'd prefer."

"Don't snarl at me," Lydia sighed tiredly. "I don't have the energy to fight right now."

"My apologies," Loki said immediately. He did feel remorse for agitating her. He cast around for a new, brighter topic. "I was licked by the white bull."

"Phantom?" Lydia laughed heartily, gripping the arms of her chair. "Did he get your jeans?"

"Yes. My reaction was much less jovial." Loki grinned, glad to have fixed the mood. "And I assume you noticed my new appearance?"

"I like it," Lydia said. "You look distinguished."

"Well, I was much less 'distinguished' yesterday after I dodged a lightning bolt."

"Why were you outside in a storm?" Lydia asked, concerned again.

"I was helping your daughter and the Captain rush through large amounts of hail after evacuating the pasture, and my magic attracted the energy. Before you ask, they survived perfectly well."

"Thanks to you or in spite of you?" Lydia quipped, beaming crookedly.

" _Thanks_ to me, insufferable woman," Loki smiled. "But my hair was a casualty."

"Tell me the whole story, please." Lydia settled back in her chair, looking much less green.

Loki started from when he saw the storm clouds approaching, then described riding back in that horrible, tiny vehicle's seats while Eleanore's driving bounced his head into the ceiling. He couldn't help grinning when he told her about his innovative kicking of Eleanore's ass, and she absolutely lost her composure, doubling over and holding her sides until the laughter drew tears down her cheeks.

"Thanks for saving them, though," she giggled, wiping her face with the washcloth and replacing it on her neck.

"Merely doing my duty, my lady." Loki adopted a humble pose, hand over his heart.

"Isn't it about supper time? Aren't you hungry?" Lydia asked in succession. "June said it's lasagna night."

"I have no idea why your family is so obsessed with that dish," Loki retorted. "I helped put it together, and it looks disgusting."

"Just try it," Lydia urged. "For me. I haven't had it since I moved in here."

"Will Eleanore not bring you some? What a shamefully neglectful child."

"I haven't asked for it," Lydia said. "Please don't talk about her that way. You're only half-joking."

"Apologies, again." Loki stood and bowed contritely. "I forget my place."

"Just be nice to her," Lydia commanded. "She's my baby."

"I will mind my manners," Loki assured her, inwardly thinking Eleanore was worthy of much less kindness than her mother granted her. "But you look weary. Do you require anything before I leave you to rest?"

"No," Lydia shook her head, going grayish green again. "Thanks for everything. Leave before I puke again."

"Farewell." Loki transported away, back into his bedroom at the farm, feeling sick himself. The smell of food wafting from the kitchen below made it worse. He opened his windows and took deep breaths of fresh air until his stomach stopped flopping like a landed fish. He could hear voices behind the house: the twins talking about who achieved greater success at shield throwing, and who was the better shot. It was evening, and the sun was setting out over the field. They'd worked over-long to complete the fence, but it was worth it to be finished. The dog barked on the floor below and tires crunched up the gravel, coming to a stop only to be replaced by the monotone roar of the automatic outbuilding door.

 _"Where'd you take our car?"_ Alan's disembodied voice asked.

 _"Milk,"_ Eleanore answered simply.

The front door opened and shut, and voices grew loud in conversation. The Captain joined in, talking about techniques for tossing his weapon of choice most effectively, Quiet footsteps materialized at the end of the hallway and paused in front of Loki's door. There was a knock.

"Loki?" Eleanore asked. "Are you hungry?"

He _was_ hungry, but he didn't want to politely choke down horrible food. _"Try it for me._ " He walked over and opened the door, making Eleanore step back as he towered over her. "Lead the way, my lady."

"Are you okay?" she asked, so like her mother but horribly different. Controlling. Lydia's concerned expression was Eleanore's skeptical frown.

"I am famished," Loki shrugged. "A day of work will cause that."

"You did a great job." Eleanore accepted the explanation easily, speaking over her shoulder as she headed down the hallway. "Are you sure you've never built a fence before?"

"Positive," Loki answered.

"Hang on," Eleanore paused at the top of the stairs. "My mom texted a minute ago and said you went to visit."

"I did." Loki ground his teeth, waiting for the inevitable ' _Consult me in the future,'_ or ' _Don't go without permission.'_

"How was she? Did the chemo go okay?"

Loki blinked a few times, processing the unexpected query. "She was ill. Recovering from it." Was this the effect of mind control? That he thought the worst of people?

"How ill? Like puking?"

"Yes, exactly like puking." He wrinkled his nose as slight nausea returned with the memories.

Eleanore sighed, leaning against the stairwell's door frame. For an instant, she looked broken and years beyond her ridiculous youth. Then she was back, running a hand through her hair, wryly grinning up at him. "Thanks for telling me. She never says how bad it is." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and descended the stairs.

Loki followed more slowly. He tried to examine which thoughts were his, and which were planted. It was impossible to tell, as they flitted through his mind at the same speed. When he got to the dining room, Alan handed him a plate of barely-held-together, cheese-strung mush and a glass of milk. At least it smelled edible. Loki took his place at the table next to Rogers, who was waiting for everyone else to be seated before he started to eat. Cole and June sat at either end of the table again, and Eleanore sat between her cousins.

"Parmesan," she said, pausing with her fork above the mess on her plate.

"Got it," Alan said, getting into a kitchen cupboard and returning with a green container full of white powder. The 'Parmesan' was passed around, and Loki followed everyone else's example when it got to him, shaking a bit over top of the red, oozing sauce. When everyone else dug in, Loki took a tentative bite.

It was amazing. Tangy tomato sauce and hearty meat mixed with bland pasta and salty cheese. Loki fought the urge to close his eyes and groan. He hadn't tasted something this good since he'd fallen from the Bifrost. He added more of the Parmesan, and it created even better flavor. He ate nearly as vigorously as Volstagg at a feast, stopping only when he realized everyone was looking at him.

"Does it taste okay?" Cole asked, biting back a laugh.

Loki straightened and regained his manners. "Yes, thank you."

"Do you not have lasagna on Asgard?" Alan asked, openly grinning.

"No." Loki shook his head, not giving the boy any more humorous ammunition. He finished the last bites politely, ignoring the palpable silence around him.

"Want seconds?" Rogers asked. Loki shrugged, and the man picked up both of their empty plates and returned with another square of indulgent culinary bliss.

"Thank you." Loki ate more slowly, savoring the food. The Hansens and their guests resumed talking. "Is this a family recipe?" he asked when there was a lull in the voices around him.

"Yeah," Eleanore said, swallowing her mouthful of food. "It's from Italy. My grandma and grandpa were both from there."

"Italy." Loki hadn't heard of it, but if their food was this incredible, he was going to visit.

"My dad was from Ireland," Steve commented. "My mom was part Irish too."

"My dad's mostly Irish," Eleanore said.

"I'm German," Cole added. "We're a mixed lot."

"Doctor Erskine was German," Rogers literally pointed at the connection. "He created the Super Soldier Serum."

"Didn't Hitler want him for something?" Cole asked.

"Yeah, the Serum." Rogers frowned, thinking back in time. "Right after he created me, he was shot by a Hydra operative."

"I'm sorry," June said sympathetically. "He was a great man." How she could know that when he'd died long before her birth, Loki had no idea. It was one of those instances of pitiful mortal sympathy he'd grown used to. Basically meaningless, and yet the clung to its custom.

"Thanks. He was." Steve retreated into the shell of civility he sometimes wore. It kept people at a distance so he could deal with himself.

 _Who does that remind me of?_ Loki's mind made the connection instantly, and he shrugged off his own innate sarcasm.

"What do you want to do after dinner?" Zeph asked Eleanore, a little too brightly.

"I'm going to go check on Punk again. Might sit out there for a while." Eleanore finished her plate of food and nudged her younger cousin out of the way.

"It's getting late," June said. "Boys, you have weights in the morning. One hour, then bed."

"Call of Duty?" Alan asked Zeph, who nodded enthusiastically. "Want to try, Loki?"

"I am not familiar with the term," Loki said.

"It's a video game," Eleanore explained on her way out the door.

"Ah. Thank you, but I might read a while." Some of the books from the night before had looked interesting. Loki had only gotten through one on computers' inner mechanics. He wanted to try to learn about programming next.

"Steve?" the twins turned to the next guest expectantly.

"No thanks," he said. "I'll help clean up, though."

"Thanks!" the boys didn't wait around for their mother's disapproving glare, dashing up the stairs three at a time until Loki heard the television in the loft blaring, then silence.

Loki stayed to help as well, feeling obligated after so many free, excellent meals. He and Rogers made quick work of the dishes while Cole put away the scant leftovers. Loki was distressed to see so little left, not knowing when he'd get another chance to have it.

"You know, Elle made a lasagna for me when I moved it. It's in my freezer back home." Rogers' insight was actually appreciated.

Loki pondered sneaking into the man's apartment and stealing the food, then discarded the idea. He'd wait patiently. No use letting them see a weakness such as this. It was just _so good_ after years and a week of nothing special.

"I can make you a copy of the recipe," June offered next.

"That would be excellent, thank you." Loki put the last of the dishes in the machine and Rogers placed a square in its lid and turned it on.

"Here you go, I had an extra." June handed Loki a sheet of paper with detailed instructions and exact ingredients for the dish. He read it through once, then placed it in magical storage.

"Thank you," he said again. Now he just had to get money (or manufacture suitable counterfeits) and learn to navigate Midgard's stores.

"Could one of you do me a favor and go bring Elle back inside?" June asked. "If we leave her alone, she'll stay out there all night."

"I'll go," Rogers said, already heading out the door.

"Is she really so dedicated?" Loki asked, wiping off the counter.

"With the first-time mothers she is. Labor's harder for them." Cole cleaned the inside of the sink until it shone pure silver. "Once, about five years ago, she was gone for an overnight trip and her heifer Lucy started having its first calf. It was an accidental pregnancy there— bull got out and messed everything up, if you know what I mean. Anyway, the heifer was way too young to safely carry and deliver. The vet came and tried everything, but there was just nothing they could do. Elle was really broken up over it."

"Do you anticipate the same complications with this one?" Loki inquired.

"No, Pink's plenty old enough to calf. Should be fine." Cole yawned and cracked his knuckles. "I'm beat. Think I'll hit the sack. Thanks again for all your help today."

"My pleasure," Loki said, nodding as the man went down the hallway to the bedroom.

"It's so nice to have the fence done," June agreed, cleaning crumbs off the table. "For once, we're pretty much clear on major projects for a while. Maybe all summer, unless something drastic happens." She knocked twice on the table. "It's for luck," she explained when Loki raised his eyebrow at the action.

"May you have good fortune, then," Loki said. "And a good night. I will also retire."

"Goodnight," June said. "If the boys are too loud, tell them to quiet down."

"I will." Loki climbed the stairs and passed the twins, who did not spare him a glance as they focused on the split screen television where they shot virtual enemies. They were each wearing a headset, so the game looked like a pantomime. _No wonder Alan wants to join their military, if that's what he thinks battle is like._

Loki read through some of the programming book, working around Charlie, who took advantage of his unclosed door and made himself right at home. He kicked the cat out gently and closed the door once he heard Eleanore and Rogers ascending the stairs and telling the boys to go to bed. Then he tried to sleep, only to awaken two hours later at one in the morning, catching the tail end of a nightmare as it fled back into his mind. It involved Thor and Lydia somehow, that's all Loki could figure out. He laid back to try to force himself to sleep, but was unsuccessful for another frustrating two hours.

The stalemate was broken when he heard Eleanore's door open and nothing else. He rose immediately, silently crossing the carpeted floor and looking out across the loft. He caught a glimpse of Eleanore going down the dark stairs, boots in hand, dragon following like a shadow. Seeing as he wasn't getting any sleep, Loki magicked human clothes onto his body and followed her, careful not to disturb the Captain.

She was clever and quiet, waiting to put her boots on until she was out the front door. She took the dog with her as well, likely to keep it from barking. She made her way to the barn and closed the door before turning on the flashlight in her hand. Its beam flashed once under the door before moving on and leaving darkness behind.

Loki waited until she'd entered the barn before he set out from the house, liking his current element of surprise. He crossed the yard quickly and quietly, not wanting to alert the dog and set it off. He needn't have worried— it raced out around the other side of the outbuilding and happily snuffled his hands until he started walking again.

Eleanore's voice reached him as he entered the barn. "Good girl, are you thirsty? Yeah, I knew you were almost ready. Just push, okay? You're doing such a good job, Punky." The flashlight was bobbing around crazily as Loki approached a large stall full of mostly-clean straw, a red heifer, and Eleanore.

"Your uncl—" He'd been going to say, 'your uncle was right; you are obsessed,' but he felt his entire body lock into place, right down to his bones, as Eleanore gasped and turned, holding her hand out and dropping the flashlight. His lungs started burning, his heart strained against the binding.

"Loki?" she asked, half-whispering. "Oh my god, are you okay?" She let him go, and Loki gulped air like a drowning man.

"How did you do that?" he asked after he'd regained his breath.

"Your body's seventy percent water," Eleanore explained. "I'm sorry, I usually don't react quite that much."

"Do it again," Loki ordered. He wanted to figure it out. It would make a potent spell.

"Not right now, Pink's in labor." She picked up the flashlight and turned back to the heifer, who was in the process of lying down.

"Is there a problem?" Loki asked, moving closer.

"No, I just want to be here. You can go back to bed if you want. It'll get real gross real quick."

"I was awake anyway." Loki swung into the pen, careful to avoid manure.

"I couldn't sleep very well either," Eleanore said. "But _I_ was worried about this. Did you have another nightmare?"

"Something to that effect," Loki evaded.

"Did you remember this one?"

"No." _Insolent mortal and her strange memory._

"That sucks," Eleanore sympathized a moment. Then the heifer groaned and claimed both their attention.

"Is there a problem now?" Loki queried again.

"No, it just hurts." Eleanore moved to crouch at Pink's rear. "I don't see anything yet, but we're definitely on the right track." She stood and reached for the shelf behind her, pulling on plastic gloves that reached up to her shoulder. "Sure you don't want to go back inside?"

"Should your aunt and uncle be aware of this event?" Loki ignored her question, figuring he could handle more disgusting fluids.

"They'd just tell me to go back to bed," Eleanore said, sticking half her arm inside the straining cow. She was still wearing night clothes, and they were getting filthy. "Okay, I've got a nose and two front feet. We're in position." She pulled her hand out, and Loki nearly gagged. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." He was fine, damn it. In fact, he was getting used to various bodily excretions, all thanks to this imprisonment. Pink strained again, groaning mightily.

"Oh shit, there's the feet." Eleanore rose and got a strange chain device from the shelf as well. Loki walked around and watched as she connected them to the calf's front feet and braced a metal piece against the cow's rear end. She tightened the chain with a lever, then waited until Pink pushed again and used the chain to help pull the head out. Another pause, and out the entire body came, white with dark red spots. Eleanore used her gloved hands to clear its nostrils, then listened until it inhaled its first breath and removed the chains. "Okay, we should back off now."

"Are the gloves necessary?" Loki asked, half-jesting, hoping she wouldn't.

"Nope." Eleanore peeled them off and tossed them in a black trash bin outside the stall.

"Now what are we waiting for?" Loki wondered aloud.

"I want to see her stand up. She's a she. Widdle pretty baby girly girl." Eleanore smiled fondly, watching the cow standing and licking the calf off.

"Are you going to name her?"

"You can. I've named a lot of cows." She leaned against the fence, then stood up again. "Crap, we have to transfer them to a clean pen."

"Oh do we?" Loki sighed. "How do 'we' go about it?"

"You can carry the baby, and I'll lead Pink," Eleanore said, opening the gate and ignoring the reluctant tone. "It's just this stall across the way. We set it up with clean straw and water and grain this afternoon."

"Very well." Loki followed her into the dirty stall. How much could a cow defecate in one day? The answer was mind-boggling. He lifted the now mostly dry calf cautiously, but the mother seemed not to mind. Eleanore fitted a halter to her head and walked behind Loki to the next gate, which she unlatched and let him walk through first. He set the calf down and backed away as the now halter-free cow ambled over to resume cleaning.

"There." Eleanore pinned the gate back in place and set the flashlight on its post to illuminate the pair. Loki noticed paint flecks dashing white strands through her dark hair. The calf was still lying down, but now Pink was nudging her. Slowly, shakily, she stood and fell, and stood and fell, and stood and stepped in the soft straw. "There you go," Eleanore encouraged her. "Go eat something."

"Can they understand you?" Loki joked, wiping his face with his hand.

"It's the tone more than anything," Eleanore said, and Loki understood June's earlier 'literal' comment. "I think this little one's going to be a show calf, so it's best to get her acclimated to humans first thing."

"So it really does need a name, then," Loki mused.

"Yeah, what's it gonna be?"

"I've never named cattle," he scoffed. "I've barely named a horse." Amund was a gift for his six hundredth name day from Thor. Loki had taken the name Frigga suggested and trained the horse himself, using a special set of commands so he would respond well in battle. _Who rides with him now?_ Loki brushed away the wistful, useless thought.

"It's not rocket science," Eleanore laughed, "or magical theory. Think pink-related."

"I did not know the word for fuchsia before you told me that one's name."

"How do you describe colors, then?"

"Red, pink, light pink, dark red… Hardly 'rocket science'."

"Fine, we can think of names later. But Alan and Zeph are going to fight us on it, if they wake up before we think of one."

"Are you going to remain out here?" Loki asked, surprised. "Are you not tired?"

"Oh, I'm exhausted," Eleanore nodded. "But I'm really excited right now, so I don't think I could fall asleep. What about you?"

"I was trying to sleep for two hours before I came out here," Loki admitted. "I have nothing better to do."

"We could get some chairs," Eleanore suggested, leading the way over to a little tack room. There were several folded seats, and she handed two to Loki and got into a tiny refrigerator and pulled two bottles of water out. "There. We're set."

They went back inside the stall and leaned the chairs against the fencing. The calf wandered over when they were silent for a few minutes. Eleanore held her fingers out, and it tried to nurse on them with its toothless mouth. "We could call her Gummy."

"Is that somehow related to pink?" Loki asked caustically.

"Fine." Eleanore was quiet again. "Will you tell me more about the other realms?"

"What do you wish to know?"

"Anything, I guess," she shrugged. "Are they round planets, or weird hunks of space rock like Asgard?"

"They are planets," Loki responded. "I have never heard the Realm Eternal referred to as a weird hunk of space rock. I think that might be considered treason."

"Just saying that? No free speech?"

"It was an exaggeration," Loki assured her.

"So are there other habitable planets other than our nine?"

"Yes, many. Although not all are 'habitable' in the human sense."

"Like the Chitauri one?"

"Precisely."

"How did they live there?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did they eat? Did they drink water? Where did the water come from? How did they communicate? Did they have a language? Did they all answer to that one guy? The really bad one," Eleanore clarified, as though Loki could mistake who she meant.

"Thanos is his name," Loki said, feeling bold for voicing it. He decided to work backward through the questions. "The Chitauri were a hive mind, and that mind was controlled by a lackey called the Other. They lived in a manner similar to parasites, siphoning energy from those motherships. The motherships drew sustenance from energy dispersed in outer space." This was, in a strange way, no different than talking to the Captain. Except Eleanore asked so many questions that communication flowed and changed much more rapidly.

"What did you eat while you were there?" she asked next.

"Nothing much," Loki said. "The Chitauri do not think logically, so they likely had no idea I needed food or drink."

"Wait, how long were you there?" Eleanore's concern mirrored her mother's.

"Two years, give or take," Loki said. "I had no real concept of time passing. I was in the void for a while, then I was found and taken, and now I am here, two years later."

Eleanore considered that quietly. Loki wondered what she was thinking, if she was imagining the torture he'd gone through. The physical pain was bad, but the mental anguish had been worse. Memories of Odin's rejection, Thor choosing Jotunheim over his own not-brother, Frigga's face when she'd discovered what he'd done. He'd used his time alone to reconcile himself to abandonment. Was she going to ask about that? Pry into his mind like the witch she truly was?

"You should have had more supper," Eleanore stated thoughtfully. "Lasagna and pasta in general will help you gain some weight back."

"I ate my fill," Loki chuckled, amused that _that_ was what she centered on. "And I have regained flesh in my time here. I have always been thin."

"The Italian in me wants to give you tons of food now." Eleanore grinned, watching the calf nursing again.

"And what of the Irish half?"

"Tons of meat and potatoes," Eleanore laughed. Loki guessed it was a joke that went over his head.

"I have your family's recipe now, so I can feed myself." Loki just needed money, but that would be simple to come by.

"You'll survive on lasagna?" Eleanore laughed again. "Well, I won't stop you. But I can teach you how to make other things if you ever get tired of it."

"Thank you, no." Loki didn't particularly want to learn anything from her.

They were silent for a while. The calf laid down next to its mother and slept, exhausted. Eleanore cautiously approached and scratched Pink's shoulder. "We should probably let them rest."

"Most likely." Loki stood and gathered the chairs again, waiting until Eleanore unlatched the gate for him. He put the chairs back and threw the empty bottles away in the trash bin, then turned as the flashlight illuminated the room brightly. Eleanore was looking up at him thoughtfully, brow creased, eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

"Why do you hate the Jotuns so much?" she asked.

Rage, sharp and burning stabbed Loki in the heart, heating his vision. _Control._ "Why do you ask?"

"It just occurred to me," she said, leaning against the door. "Like, is it institutionalized racism? You learned it from somewhere, right? Stories? Did you have a run-in with them at some point?"

"They are monsters," Loki growled, trying to keep his voice level. "That should be explanation enough."

"That's not even logical, though. There's no entire society of pure monsters, only people who don't understand each other," Eleanore protested. "What did they do?"

"They attacked this world, for one thing," Loki started, crossing his arms. "Your ancestor's ancestors were saved by the Aesir." _And you welcomed one of the beasts back here without knowing it, you damned foolish child._

"That was a long time ago," Eleanore pressed. "Before you were born, right? Why do _you_ hate them?"

"I have already explained," Loki responded, walking over and standing tall above her. She looked up at him, but did not retreat. "I would return to my quarters.

"Oh, okay." She moved then, and let him pass. "But what about Thor? And Frigga doesn't seem to hate them like you do."

"They are not experienced enough to understand," Loki said. "Leave it, Eleanore."

" _I'm_ trying to understand," she muttered sullenly.

Loki paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Perhaps you will, one day." He could imagine the horror and revulsion on her face if he just changed his appearance one morning and greeted her as the demon he was.

"Are they going to attack here again?"

"No, they cannot. They have no means of getting here and they have no real weapons to fight with. You mortals could obliterate them now."

"Then why would I understand? And how did they get here in the first place?"

"You ask too many questions." Loki worked his jaw, turning back and harnessing the madness churning in his mind.

"But you answer them, sometimes," Eleanore pointed out. "You like talking about the other realms."

"The other realms have committed no atrocities on a Jotun scale," Loki explained simply.

"But Darren told me about the Alfheim-Svartalf wars. There were atrocities there, and those groups hate each other still."

"You know fragments of a foreign history," Loki dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Your memory is too short to comprehend the true meaning of reasonable distrust and animosity."

"Animosity is seldom reasonable," Eleanore argued, changing fully into her debating self. "Earth's history has quite a bit of it. I think I get the picture."

"You do not," Loki assured her. He was on the edge, tipping precariously between laughing about this ridiculous conversation or boiling into bitter resentment.

"Then will you tell me? It might help you understand, too."

"Understand what?" Loki asked incredulously. "Do you think the study of monsters will bring me peace? No, you only want answers to satisfy your morbid curiosity."

"No, I want to help," Eleanore asserted. "Don't just brush me off because you're angry."

"You hide behind that mindset, but you are a fraud." Loki could make her angry, too. "You claim to help, but you drag nails through healed wounds."

"What wounds? What are you talking about?" She frowned up at him, confused.

He'd revealed too much. He pushed closer to the edge, his thoughts no longer under control, shooting memories of ice and hidden dealings and blue faces with blood-red eyes. They'd delighted at the thought of attacking _anyone_ , especially Asgard. Fools and savages, all. Loki should have destroyed them before Thor returned, to Hel with the consequences. He could only see Eleanore's curious expression in bits and pieces, his focus drawn inward, trying to avoid an outburst. Only his body still obeyed, his jaw snapping shut to avoid words of venom.

"Loki?" Eleanore asked, her tone much softer.

"You will not cease this torment, will you?" he snarled. Perhaps harsh realities would drive her away, give him some relief. "No matter what I do, how I work under your supervision, you are not satisfied."

"I'm hardly a slave-driver," Eleanore scoffed. "Look, we can talk about this later. Why don't you calm down?"

"You want me calm?" Loki hissed, feeling himself slipping, the anger taking over. "You mean _malleable_. You want a puppet, like every other person in your life. You want to control me, use my powers for your own ends. I will _die_ before I submit."

Eleanore looked up at him, unafraid, impassive. "I do want to help."

His vision turned red. "That's what you want me to think, hm? Just like the rest of them, worshiping your compassion. But you are not a kind person, and you do _not_ care for anyone but yourself. You are a cold, heartless wretch who will not stoop to save her own _mother_!"

The second Loki said it, he knew he'd made a mistake. Why had he said that? Not only was it clearly untrue, but what he'd said was dishonorable and basically unforgivable. If Eleanore had not spared Lydia the pain of her treatment, then it was because she could do nothing about it. Her powers were limited and vague. Loki had hit a wound that likely tormented her every day.

Eleanore showed no visible reaction except a widening of her already large brown eyes. That was enough, however, to convey the shock and pain his accusation had caused. She stared up at him, finally at a loss for words.

That was it. He'd ended his imprisonment here, and he couldn't face it. Loki vanished and reappeared in the trees that lined the back pasture. There was really nowhere else for him to go. There was only time to wait, to resign himself. He'd wasted his last chance, just as Barton had warned him not to. Eleanore would abandon him to Odin's execution plan, and Loki couldn't truly blame her. At least the universe would finally be rid of the blight that should have died a thousand years ago in the cold temple of Jotunheim. The Other would no longer control his anger, making him question every action and reaction. The rightful son of Odin would become the _only_ son, and fate would behave more kindly in his absence.

Loki sat in the foliage for a time, waiting for guards or Thor to appear and cart him away. If Odin sent them, then they could transport right to his location. The sky grew lighter to the East, and storm clouds brewed directly overhead. He prepared to meet his doom calmly.

The energy beam deposited a lone figure in the midst of the open field. Frigga. Loki stood to meet her as she climbed the hill. Even if she was the only envoy, he would go back in peace. He was done.

"Loki," she greeted him, her eyes sorrowful.

"Queen Frigga." Loki bowed deeply. He still loved this woman as much as a son could love his mother, but he would not do her the dishonor of implying a relationship when she most likely wanted him gone as well. He'd spurned the opportunity she'd given him. He had truly pushed away everyone who ever loved or cared about him.

"Oh, my son," Frigga hugged him, apparently unaware of her shame or disgust.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked, standing stiffly as her arms held him close.

"I have missed you," Frigga said simply. "I have not seen your true self in years."

"Are you not here to reclaim me for Asgard?" Loki asked, pulling away gently. "You must know my punishment was overturned."

"Let us sit," Frigga said, guiding him back into the trees. "I would speak with you. Heimdall, look away."

"Mother," Loki said, following her reluctantly, wondering what the gatekeeper was not allowed to witness. His anger-drained mind was sluggish, but if he was to die, he would claim what he could, including a parent. "What is there to discuss? I have given up my final option."

"Given up?" Frigga raised an eyebrow at him and sat in a clean patch of grass out of sight of the farm. "Loki, please sit down."

He did, closing his eyes and reveling in the good memories that surfaced. The smell of the grass, the cool breeze… If not for the ache in his heart, they could be back on Asgard before any of the events of the past two years had taken place. Phantom mooed curiously, dispelling the illusion. Loki opened his eyes and met Frigga's gaze. "I will listen."

"Thank you." Frigga ran a hand through his hair, messing with the short curls. "This is nice. Earth's styles have their grace."

"Lady Eleanore's aunt cut it," Loki explained, wondering where this was going.

"Mm, I heard about the lightning from Heimdall," Frigga said, leaning back on one arm and admiring the view in front of her. The pastures stretched for a couple miles before they met the farm, which was lit well against the morning dimness. Loki imagined the humans waking to find a potentially emotionally compromised Eleanore and the new calf. "This is a lovely place," Frigga murmured.

"It is called Iowa. A province of this country." Loki watched the clouds above dissipate to let the rising sun shine on the dew.

"You have made progress here," Frigga observed. "I do not believe your time has been wasted."

"Perhaps not," Loki conceded. "But certainly the mortals' time was. It accomplished nothing, in the end."

"Well, that is what I wish to discuss," Frigga stated. "You seem to think your life is forfeit now. That Lady Eleanore has given up on you and sent for me to take you back."

"Is that not true?" Loki inquired flatly. He thought it was, but Frigga seldom toyed with her sons' feelings. Either they were in trouble or they weren't.

"It is not," Frigga stated. "Heimdall reported your fight to me a short time ago when I visited him for my daily Loki report." She smiled over at him, and Loki frowned in confusion. "It seems Lady Eleanore spoke directly to him after you disappeared, asking him to let you 'go cool off'. And, specifically, she requested him not to tell Thor of the altercation."

"That is ridiculous," Loki scoffed. "She is not in her right mind. I am sure if you asked her right now, she would gladly be rid of me."

"Oh, I think you're wrong, my son," Frigga told him gently. "You give her too little credit for patience. She very much reminds me of you, when you were a younger man."

"How so?" Loki had never been as… involved as Eleanore was, not even with Thor. If he'd tried to command anyone truly, they would have laughed at him. They _had_ laughed and conspired behind his back when he'd taken the throne legitimately.

"When you and Thor would argue," Frigga explained, "you two would be at each other's throats, saying the most awful things. It nearly broke my heart when I heard you both. Ah," she held up a finger as Loki opened his mouth to apologize, "I would be heard. I remember one instance in particular, eight hundred years past, when I stopped by the training yard to watch you spar. You were outmatched by your brother, but you fought valiantly, never giving an inch of ground, always quick on your feet and inventive. When Thor turned to deliver what he likely thought would be the ending blow, you threw a light in his face and sent him sprawling. I did laugh, although I shouldn't have. But Thor was embarrassed and angry, and he turned on you and delivered venomous accusations, which I could never repeat but still remember to this day. I remember Volstagg holding him back, but he hit with his words. I thought you would strike him down, or at least fight back, but you only waited for him to finish, then turned and walked away. I could see how much you were hurting as you left, but you held your head high, and yourself above retaliation. I'd never been more proud of you."

"Alas, you remember too kindly." Loki recalled that event as well. _"You cowardly whelp! Your weak, disgusting tricks only serve to distance you from the honor of a warrior! You will never die a hero's death, you craven, timorous bastard!"_ Yes, those words had burned, and burned deep, but Loki had confirmed them all, in the end. "Do you not recall my retreat that lasted for weeks? I lived up to every insult, hiding away on Alfheim, burying myself in books."

"You went away because you needed to," Frigga acknowledged. "But you knew patience and forgiveness even then. When you returned, Thor apologized and you accepted it."

"I have met a person who reminds me of you, a bit, here on Midgard," Loki shrugged off the comparison. "Eleanore's mother, Lydia. She too sees good where there is none."

"Mothers see potential, Loki," Frigga said, placing her arm around his back. "In our own children and in others. It is a gift; one that lets us hope and dream for our children's futures."

"Did you dream this future for me?" Loki asked sarcastically. "Did you see your Frost Giant child growing into a true monster?"

"Our dreams change based on what will make our children happy. But more importantly," Frigga said firmly, turning Loki to face her, "you. Are. _Not._ A. Monster."

"You are in far too optimistic a position to make that claim," Loki argued with a sigh. "But enough of that. Are you saying I will not return to Asgard?"

"Not now," Frigga confirmed. "Much as I would love to have you back, I do not know that Asgard is ready for your return."

"What do you mean?" Loki was bewildered. How could Asgard prepare for his return? Unless they needed to construct a better cell or a collar to take his magic away.

"I have been thinking," Frigga mused. "About your innate hatred of Frost Giants, and how it is not unique. Asgard's culture is rife with tales of terrible acts committed by the Jotuns during a time of war. Similarly, their culture must have stories of the atrocities we committed in the name of victory."

"You sound exactly like Eleanore," Loki muttered. "I _know_ they are monsters, Mother. I know it better than any of you."

"I am not here to argue, Loki…" Frigga sighed and lovingly cupped his cheek in her hand. "I am merely exploring a train of thought. At this point, the truth looks different to both of us. Just know that you are my son, forever and always, and I love you as such."

 _Even if my skin was blue and you could not touch me for fear of frostbite?_ Loki thought but didn't ask because there were inane, annoying, cursed tears clogging his throat and eyes. Frigga was wrapping her arms around him, and he smelled the roses from her garden as he hugged her back. At least he managed not to sob outright, holding his breath and letting the water track silently down his cheeks. Frigga rubbed circles on his back like she had when he was a young boy, fallen and bruised.

They stayed there a few peaceful moments before Loki's mother moved back and held him at arm's length, brushing tears from his face. "My dear, sweet boy. I'm afraid my time is gone. I have to return."

"By all means," Loki sniffed and wiped his eyes, hoping Heimdall truly hadn't seen anything. He stood and walked her back to the gate patterned in the grass. "Thank you for visiting."

"I will come back," Frigga promised. "Though perhaps the time away is doing you some good."

"You are always welcome," Loki said. "I am learning to be an excellent host. Cooking and all."

"I am still proud of you," Frigga pulled him in for one more hug, which Loki accepted and returned. "Keep trying. Things worth having are never easy."

"Yes, Mother." Loki stepped back and gave her a smile as the gate descended and took her back to the realm where she belonged. He had no place there, but he'd value his connection to Frigga as long as he could have it.

Reality returned as the sky cleared and the cattle drifted back into their scattered, calm grazing patterns. Phantom approached Loki again, but he did not lick his trousers, likely because they were leather and not jeans material. Loki scratched his back as he'd seen Eleanore do, then set off at a quick walk back to the farm. He jumped over the gates, hoping he wasn't giving the cattle any bad ideas, and made it back to the lawn just as Alan came running out of the house, pulling a shirt over his head.

"New baby!" the boy didn't give him a second glance, his bare feet swishing through the grass as he passed by. Loki could hear other voices in the barn, including Rogers, excluding Eleanore.

Loki didn't bother to respond, heading into the house. The bottom floor was deserted, and there was no scent of breakfast despite the hour. Charlie trilled over and clawed his leg, so Loki picked him up and carried him up the stairs. He paused, listening, outside Eleanore's closed door before he knocked.

There was no answer. Where else would she be? Loki used magic to extend his perceptions and found her and the dragon both lying on the bed, apparently asleep. He hoped she'd gotten an hour so of rest, because he wanted to talk to her alone and this was likely the only opportunity he'd have. He knocked again, louder, and opened the door.

"What?" Eleanore shot up, hair flying, turning toward the door.

"It's me," Loki said, stepping fully into the room.

"Oh, hey." Eleanore rubbed her eyes. She'd changed into different nightclothes, and her eyes contained no accusation as she looked him up and down. "What's up?"

Loki didn't answer right away, looking around the room a moment. There was a bed with a gray patterned coverlet, a large desk, night stands, a dresser. Several paintings and many photos of her family and some unfamiliar people hung over the walls. He crossed to the desk and pulled the chair out, taking a seat a safe distance away and setting the cat on the floor. He knew how to make people comfortable just as well as he knew how to threaten them. "I have come to apologize."

"Okay," Eleanore said, sitting cross-legged. "I forgive you."

"It is not that simple," Loki raised his hand. "You have offered me a chance of life in the face of death, and I have been foolish and ungrateful. I do not handle imposed constraint well, and I turned my frustration with that on you."

"I wouldn't like it either," Eleanore agreed. "I thought it was weird they decided to go with this option."

"What do you mean?" Loki asked. Had she not demanded this as recompense for wrongs done to Midgard?

"I thought they'd try healing you on Asgard," she said. Charlie jumped into her lap and she held him like an infant. "I didn't know they'd send you here, not that you're not welcome."

"So this… situation was not your plan?" Loki looked for any sign of lies, and found nothing. He waited, reserving judgment until she'd answered.

"No, I didn't know about it until the night before we brought you back." Nothing but the truth. Eleanore shrugged, "I suggested— well, that's not the right word. Advocated. I advocated for whatever sentence Odin was going to deal out to include healing from the mind stuff. Your mom got to decide the punishment, apparently, because she loves you or something." She grinned at him, the sarcasm evident. "She asked if Steve and I could supervise, and we said yes."

Loki sighed. "In that case, I have even more to apologize for. I incorrectly presumed you to be the reason for this peculiar set of reparations." She was a victim of circumstance as well. So was Rogers. They were making the best of it, unlike Loki. He needed to think this through, but he doubted the day would offer him much time.

"Enough apologies," Eleanore said. "I forgive you. Again." She quirked an eyebrow at him, "Maybe we could start over?"

"How do you mean?" Loki asked.

"Like this: Hi, I'm Eleanore Engman and I have this weird magical power that makes you obey me if I say something the wrong way."

"Do you think about that?" Loki inquired, suddenly curious. "Do you avoid it?"

"Well yeah," she frowned. "I thought that was obvious."

"Oh. In that case, I am Loki, and I am bound to obey you and Captain Rogers." He stood and bowed. "And I will let you go back to sleep."

"No, my alarm's about to go off anyway. Want to go see the baby again?"

"Certainly." Loki felt tired as well, but he could go another day without much trouble. "I will wait for you outside the door."

"Okay."

He closed the latch securely and stepped back, listening to the rustling of material, the _thump_ of Charlie jumping to the floor, followed much for loudly by Jet. Eleanore's phone started jingling. _"I'm awake, shut up!"_ The jingling stopped and the door opened to a work clothes-clad mutant who frowned down at her device. "Charlie lost a tooth, look." She showed him a picture of a fang sitting on her desk. "I got rid of it, or I'd show you the real thing."

"Is this normal for a cat?" Loki asked, following her down the stairs.

"I think so. I've never seen them lose teeth, but Char's so young it makes sense." They walked in silence through the main room to the still-empty kitchen. "Loki?"

"Yes?"

"Your anger is really weird."

"And how is that?" he asked, diverted by the matter-of-fact tone she used.

"It's like a giant blanket, or something. I don't know. It's hard to describe." Eleanore paused and put her boots on in the mudroom. "But do you ever feel like you can't break out of it?"

"Yes," Loki admitted. "Or I feel as though the rage builds to ridiculous levels. Not to excuse my behavior, but I never used to act that way." They walked out the front door into the sunny morning air.

"Huh. Do you think it's a residual effect?"

"That seems highly likely." Loki frowned, thinking slowly over his bouts of malice. "Or perhaps I am still under the scepter's influence, and the Other takes what chances he can get to control me."

"But it wore off for Clint," Eleanore pointed out.

"Mm. But I was much more tightly bound," Loki said. "I only removed his remorse and replaced it with my own will at the time. I have no idea what Thanos did to me instead."

"Do you not remember?"

"I do not." They reached the barn, and Loki hoped they could drop the subject in front of the others, especially the twins. He did not want to deal with three questioners instead of the one he was assigned.

"We can think about it more later," Eleanore suggested, walking into the cool, dark building.

"Good morning," Rogers greeted him. He was wearing a checkered shirt that very nearly matched Cole's, jeans, and boots.

"Good morning," Loki replied. "I see you've adapted to farm life."

"What? Oh." The man glanced down at himself and grinned wryly. "I just didn't have any more t-shirts clean."

"Aunt June washed some," Eleanore told him. She skirted by, heading down the row of stalls and stopping at the occupied one. "She's doing great."

"Heard you helped with the delivery," Cole said, approaching and patting Loki firmly on the back. "How was that?"

"Eleanore did most of the work," Loki hedged. "I moved the calf to the clean stall. That was the extent of my assistance."

"Don't give her all the credit," Alan said. "She'll get cocky."

"Says the guy who puked last time I helped birth a calf!" Eleanore retorted.

"Whatever," Alan rolled his eyes. "Come see her. She's standing and walking really well."

Loki followed the boy over to the stall. Pink was lying down and the calf was gamboling about energetically. June and Eleanore were muttering about the 'joys of motherhood' because Pink's expression was one of bored depression. Rogers' phone started ringing, and he stepped outside to answer it. Loki smiled as the calf sniffed his hand and tried to take his fingers.

"You still have to name her," Eleanore reminded him.

"So I do," Loki agreed. The talk of motherhood had sent his mind directly to Frigga, who'd sent him here for another chance at a new life. "What about Rose?"

"That's perfect," June said, beaming. "Pinky's Rose. She's such a pretty little thing."

"Flower child," Alan said. Loki looked at him, wondering about the term, then turned to look for the other twin. "Zeph's at baseball practice."

"Elle, Loki." Rogers was back inside the barn with his phone in hand and a serious expression. "We have to head out."

"What? Why?" Eleanore asked.

Rogers met her eyes, and Loki realized Captain America was now speaking. "There was a terror attack in DC. Planted bomb, biological weapon. We're being pulled in to help find the bastard."

Loki looked at Eleanore and saw resignation and dread. The peaceful vacation was over. "When do we leave?"

"A quinjet'll be here in fifteen." The Captain cocked his head, jaw set in angry determination. "Let's suit up."

 ** _A/N: So, a lot happened in this chapter! Just a note here, I'm writing this thing without a solid outline, so sometimes I'm even surprised when something happens. Hope you're enjoying the ride as much as I am!_**

 **Lily Noir: _I laughed while writing that, and some other scenes. I've also caught myself making weird faces when Elle's baby-talking an animal friend. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for sharing your thoughts!_**

 **Everyone Else: _Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think so far. Please rate and review!_**

 ** _~PettyWhiteRose_**


	25. Chapter 25: S Bots

They packed what they could in fifteen minutes. Steve stuffed his clothes and laptop into his go-bag and donned his uniform, attaching the shield to his back and checking the room over to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Loki passed his door, holding a few books and nothing else. _That magical storage thing must be useful._ Hill had said the jet would drop them at the apartment first, then they'd take an escorted car to the attack site. The SUV they'd brought to Iowa was already driving itself back to DC. Some agents would be flying the plane, and they'd fill Steve, Eleanore, and Loki in on the details of the event. The jet was meant to get them there fast, but SHIELD had no idea where Tiryaki was. They just knew it was his bomb, and that they wanted the available Avengers to help find him. Steve, Loki, Eleanore, Bruce, Tony, and Darren would be working together on this one.

God help them all.

At least he was back in fighting shape. This recovery period had refreshed Steve's body and his mind, leaving him more than prepared to take down the people responsible for deaths and his own imprisonment and torture. And this new version of the uniform had a neck covering that extended under the helm, so they'd have to shoot his face if they wanted to get him. He left the bedroom, satisfied he'd cleaned enough to be considered a decent guest.

"Jeeze." Alan was sitting at the island when Steve walked into the kitchen. The boy raised his eyebrows at the uniform. Steve had his helmet up, so he guessed the effect was impressive to a kid. "You look different."

"You weren't that impressed with me," Eleanore complained, walking in from the mudroom with her arms full of clothes and Jet at her heels. "Some of these are yours, Steve, but there's no time to sort them."

"Thanks," Steve said as she zipped the garments into her bag.

"You're still Elle," Alan explained, ignoring the very mundane clothing conversation. "When you change, it's still just you in a suit. He acts different."

"Is that so?" Loki asked, emerging from somewhere in the living room. He was wearing his armor, too, but no helmet. He looked Steve up and down and shrugged. "Differing perceptions."

"Thank you for having us, ma'am," Steve took off the helmet as June handed him a bagel with cream cheese. He could be human here, and anyway, it was polite.

"I'm just sorry you're leaving without real breakfast," June replied, smiling up at him. "And come back any time. We're always glad to see you."

"With or without Elle," Alan added, making a face at his cousin.

She rolled her eyes and picked Charlie up. "Here, Loki."

The demigod took the cat without complaint as Elle shouldered her backpack and carried her duffel bag. Charlie settled in his arms and received a chin scratching. Loki met Steve's eyes. "What do we know?"

"Not much," Steve told him. "Hill just said there was an attack, and we need to move out."

"Cryptic." Loki's tone was lighter than Steve could bring himself to feel. Hill hadn't reported numbers, but he knew people had died.

"Okay, okay," Cole said, coming up the basement stairs. "I turned on the projectors so people probably won't see the jet."

"Thanks," Elle said. She hugged her uncle, then her aunt, then Alan. "Will you tell Zeph we said goodbye?"

"Come back and tell him yourself," Alan grumbled, faking toughness.

"I will," Eleanore assured him. The whirring of a quinjet descended into hearing out on the lawn. She and Steve donned their helmets and followed Loki out to the plane. June, Cole, and Alan watched them board from the porch, waving.

Steve waved back as the door closed. He'd never had anyone to say goodbye to when he'd left for war or battle before. It was nice.

Loki held onto Charlie and sat down at the back of the plane. Jet lay at Eleanore's feet across the small aisle. Steve took a seat too as the jet lifted off, rising quickly before it jolted up to speed. It shook a little until they broke the sound barrier at thirty-five thousand feet. They'd reach D.C. in about an hour. Loki gently set Charlie on the floor so he could explore the plane.

"Captain, Miss Engman, Loki," an unfamiliar man came back from the cockpit. He was tall and fit with black hair and an intense, piercing gaze. "I'm Agent Brock Rumlow. I've been assigned to brief you on this morning's attack."

"Nice to meet you," Eleanore said, folding her helmet back.

Steve hid a smile at that. Manners didn't really translate well into SHIELD. People were more direct, straight to the point. Elle was more than capable of that, too, but apparently old habits died hard. She'd figure it out. Or not. It didn't really matter, it was just funny.

"Yeah," Rumlow was unprepared for it as well, "you too." He looked around at Steve and Loki as if to say, _Is she for real?_

Steve stared him down. It wasn't that strange. "So about the attack."

"Saint Mary's hospital was hit this morning at nine AM local time," Rumlow began, pulling up a hologram from the tablet he held.

"Saint Mary's?" Loki and Elle asked at the same time. Steve felt his chest tightening. That was where he'd been treated just days ago.

"Yeah, we made the connection," Rumlow said quietly. "The bomb went off in the main ER lobby, triggering alarms and causing an evacuation. Problem is, a lot of people evacuated through the lobby." The image switched to one of gray, partially-melted bodies with skeletons showing through the drooping skin surrounded by green gas. "We've got analysts on the scene as we speak, but it's dangerous. They're working slow."

"Number of casualties," Steve ordered flatly. His own voice sounded like it came from far away.

"So far, the count's up to twenty-three," Rumlow told him. "We're thinking it's an acid-based aerosol, but our scientists are running into walls. They say the solution is way too heavy to stay suspended long enough to get this many people before it settled on the ground." A short video clip played, with the camera panning over the lobby. The gas was still in the air, hovering over everything evenly. "This video is just minutes old, and the attack happened an hour and a half ago. Doctor Banner should be arriving on site about now. We're looking to him for some ideas."

"What about microbots?" Eleanore asked. "If they were small enough and made the right way, they could propel the particles through the air while looking like dust motes."

"I… guess that's a possibility," Rumlow acknowledged.

"I need another tablet and a live feed to the site," Elle demanded, standing up. She was all business now, no longer worrying about polite introductions.

"There's a pack of tablets in the cockpit." Rumlow pointed her over his shoulder, and she left. "You guys have any ideas?"

"Do we have security camera feed from the attack?" Steve asked. "Do we have a visual on Tiryaki?"

"Here," Elle came back and tossed two tablets, one to Steve and one to Loki. She sat down with her own and started talking into an ear piece she got from who-knew-where. "This is Eleanore Engman. Patch me through to Doctor Banner."

"We've got a potential bomber, but it's not him," Rumlow said. "I don't suppose you saw a woman anytime during your visit to Turkey?"

"No, none." Steve pulled up the footage and scanned through the morning from midnight to eight fifty-four. Eleanore and Loki moved close to look over his shoulder. About ten people were waiting in the lobby in the cushioned chairs. Doctors were walking to and fro, and a man sat at the reception desk. Then, at eight fifty-five, the receptionist turned away to answer a phone call. A slight wisp of a woman walked in, a hooded sweatshirt hiding half her face. She was carrying a green backpack that hung heavy on her small frame. She sat down in an unoccupied row of chairs before the receptionist turned back, and he didn't notice her. She set the backpack down, and slowly slid it under the chair she sat in, waiting a moment and looking around nervously. Then she got up and went into the bathroom, which was through some glass doors and out of sight. Steve's stomach twisted as the time wound down to nine and the woman didn't return. Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…

The backpack exploded right on the dot, throwing the chair above it upward and those around it sideways. The camera shook and lost some of its squares, but they came back in time for him to watch the green gas spreading through the room. When people walked into it, they convulsed uncontrollably for a few seconds and their bodies started melting. The camera didn't capture sound, but Steve had heard enough horrible screaming to imagine the sounds coming from their mouths. A few more came through the closing interior glass doors, and they were caught in the blast. Even when they went back into the building, they died the same way.

"It's not acid," Eleanore muttered as the people stopped moving and everything fell still. "Bruce? Can you hear me? It's not acid, it's something else. I'm thinking microbots. Don't send anyone in there."

"Why do you say that?" Loki asked. "Surely fans could keep circulating the air and particles."

"Yeah, but acid would eat into their bones, too. It's indiscriminate." Elle held up her own screen with a high-quality close-up of one of the corpses. "Look, it's just skin, not bones. That's just crazy."

"So very technical," Loki teased, sitting back. "So 'crazy' microbots are the answer?"

"I'm not saying I'm right for sure," Elle admitted. "I'm not a scientist. But when I got that shit out of your system, Steve, it really resisted me. The whatever-it-was kept reforming, and it scattered from your nerves to every other part of your body the second I found it. That's a little too intelligent for single-cell organisms. So I started thinking about microbots, just as a theory, and waited to see what the SHIELD labs turned up from our clothes and stuff that had your blood on them."

"So now there are tiny robots that can eat people alive." Steve hated the future, sometimes. He shut the tablet's screen down with a sigh and sat back.

"Dark magic has been able to do that for centuries," Loki told him as Elle went back to her seat and continued talking to Bruce.

"That's very comforting," Steve deadpanned. He was reeling from the sheer number of people who'd randomly lost their lives. Who would tell their families? How many kids lost their parents? How many spouses would go to sleep alone tonight in a bed that was way too big for one person? He _hated_ this terrorist with an all-consuming passion that he'd bet against Loki's 'hatred' of humanity any day.

"We will apprehend him," Loki commented, picking Charlie back up as he moved to the other side of the plane. "I have a number of weapons at my disposal your kind has never heard of."

"Thanks, Loki." Steve cut the guy some slack. He'd probably become at least partially immunized to this kind of thing in the past thousand years. That, or he was really good at hiding revulsion. Probably both. In any case, Steve needed to clear his head for logic as well, so he could help catch the murderer. "Do we have facial recognition on the woman?"

"We've got an old match," Rumlow said, pulling up the image in question. "Sixty percent cross-matched. It's an old driver's license. Lucinda Meyers. Escapee of Wardor's Psych Hospital, currently known homeless resident. Typically hangs around in the seedier parts of town, but no police record somehow."

"So she could have been paid to drop that bag," Steve said. She was nervous, so she had to at least suspect what was in it. How much money had she been offered? Or had the terrorists used another ploy?

"This is our stop," Rumlow said. "I'm part of your escort to the site."

The door opened, and they gathered their bags and leapt to the gravel roof of the apartment building. It reminded Steve of the start of the Turkey mission. This one would end differently, though. Tiryaki would face justice. And the acid thing was just one more nightmare to deal with.

They dropped off Charlie and their bags all in Elle's apartment. She quickly washed his water bowl and filled up his food dish before turning on a DVD of birds to keep him entertained. Rumlow did another _Really?_ face at that. Steve stared him down again while Eleanore obliviously locked her apartment up.

They headed down to the parking lot and loaded themselves into the black SHIELD vehicle that awaited them. Steve sat shotgun while Rumlow drove and Loki and Eleanore and Jet filled the back seats. The ride was short and silent, but it took them a while to navigate through the media vehicles, police cars, ambulances, FBI, DHS, and SHIELD personnel. Elle put her helmet up as cameras were aimed at the tinted windows. Rumlow got them as close as he could, which was about two hundred feet away from the tents and temporary shelters set up by the various agencies and the hospital itself. Steve wondered what the protocol was for evacuating a place where most of the residents were in some state of injury already. Could they move everyone safely? Were more people suffering because of this attack?

Agents rushed to meet them as they exited the SUV. "We need you all to put on gas masks," one woman said, handing them out.

"Suit's airtight," Eleanore waved hers away.

"I have no need of such a device," Loki said, magic shimmering around his body in a vanishing haze. He held up a glowing hand. "Captain?"

"Sure." Steve felt the air change slightly around him, and everything glowed greenish gold for a moment before it all disappeared. "What's that do?"

"It will protect you from such horrors as airborne acid _and_ the possibility of the tiny robots." Loki did a bad job of hiding a smug smile as he glanced at the bulky mask alternatives.

"Thanks," Steve said to the woman, who was almost glaring at the demigod. "Could you tell me where to find Doctor Banner?"

"In the white enclosed tent," she said. "I'm supposed to take you there, if you'll just follow me."

"Sure, thanks." Eleanore stepped up and stood between Steve and Loki, Jet on her heels. "Lead the way."

They carefully skirted agents and medical personnel running to and from the various structures. Steve saw the main doors to the hospital remained closed— a good sign. But if it was microbots, could they also eat through metal? They needed more information, and that was dangerous to come by.

"Steve," Darren greeted him through his suit's helmet, walking out of the white tent. "Loki, lady-I've-never-met-before."

"Mister Stark," Eleanore said, her voice distant.

"This is where I leave you." The woman strode back to another light gray tent with the SHIELD logo on it.

If Elle didn't still have her helmet up, Steve would have thought she and Darren were having a fight. The flash of the far-away cameras confirmed his more realistic theory that they were keeping their relationship out of the limelight to hide Elle's identity. He reminded himself to use her public name, Rain, this time around. "Darren. What've you got?"

"Microbots was a good call," Darren started, leading them into the tent. "Once we started looking for them, that's what we found. Problem is, we can only see them through the glass doors right now, and we don't have any samples to test."

"I don't suppose any of you have ideas for obtaining one?" Banner asked, taking off his glasses.

"Loki put some protective magic on me," Steve said. "I could run in through the building and get something. Just tell me what to look for."

"Ah," Loki shook his head with a frown. "As 'safe' as you might feel, you are far better off staying away from things unknown to me. The spell is an innovated catch-all, not meant to specifically keep specific technology away."

"Can you develop something like that?" Darren asked. "We know they use ambient energy for a power source, but we can't tell how they're controlled."

"Here," Bruce handed them some glass and plastic dishes with screw-on lids, and several vials with Q-tips and colorful plastic coverings. "If you get a chance, fill all of these with every sample you can find. Melted biomass, the aerosol, whatever."

"Perhaps I could get a look at my target before I give an answer." Loki grinned condescendingly at the younger Stark, but there wasn't any malice in it. Steve silently accepted the containers and put them in empty pockets.

"Right this way, Reindeer Games. Nice haircut, by the way. Very urban-chic." Tony stuck his head through the tent flap and cocked his metal-covered head. Steve, Loki, Eleanore, and Darren followed him out. Jet stayed in the tent with Bruce for some reason. Maybe he sensed something off about the situation. Or maybe he just didn't want to follow them around with nothing to do. The dragon liked to conserve energy.

"So what are we looking at, Tony?" Steve asked. Darren had described it, but maybe the older Stark had some insights.

"Microbots about ten years ahead of our tech." Tony strode purposefully, not looking back. "No idea where they came from, since no one else is close to this kind of breakthrough either. Nothing even blipped on SHIELD's radar. But seriously, what else is new?"

"This is just like what was in your system, Steve," Elle pressed her fingers against the door, and the gas flowed to hit it. "I could purge these."

"We need a sample," Tony protested. Rumlow stood on the edge of Steve's vision, watching the exchange through his gas mask.

"You can have a dead sample," Steve offered. "Because we don't know what will happen when we open this door."

"Awfully leader-ish for someone who just showed up," Tony muttered. "Fine, Princess. Purge away."

"Wait," Darren said. "Can you contain the solution if I make a tiny opening and close it really quick?"

"I don't know," Elle admitted. "But even if I could, isn't this stuff a little dangerous to play around with? We don't know if the bots are still controlled."

"Sometimes to make an omelet you gotta break a few eggs," Tony said.

"The people around us are the eggs, Tony." Steve was getting irritated at the older man and his disregard for general safety in the name of science. First baiting the Hulk, then Loki, now this. His son at least kept an open mind, but Tony dove straight in and didn't look both ways.

"We can't just give up on finding this guy," Tony said. "The bots might give us a lead."

"You can have the bodies," Loki agreed with Steve. "These things have… intent. They are controlled. I would not trust them in any container, not even Eleanore's powers."

"So have we got a decision?" Elle asked.

"Wipe them out," Steve said.

She put her hands back up to the glass, and the room lit up in a flare of silver-white. The air swirled, visibly more agitated, and then areas started darkening and settling to the floor. Soon, everything was dark again, and the ground and the bodies were covered in a film of green. "Loki, can you make sure I got everything?"

"Yes." Loki took her place, green and gold shimmering over and through the coating for a moment. "There is no sign of extra energy or movement."

"I'll take lead," Steve offered, not willing to send anyone else into the dangerous room.

"We could get a team from bio down here," Rumlow suggested. "They have hazmat suits."

"Magic trumps suits here," Steve said, looking at Loki, who nodded at him in agreement. "We don't know if those things can still be triggered, or what all they can eat through."

"I will accompany you, Captain." Loki didn't glance at the Tony or Darren, who were muttering about _magic_ and _trust_ and _Cap's gonna get himself killed_ and _no he's not, Dad, shut up._ "If complications arise, I will deal with them."

"Thanks," Steve said appreciatively. Something else was up again with Loki's complacent, helpful mood, but Steve would be the last person to question it. "Everyone else, stand back. Elle, you stay out here in case you need to keep whatever this is inside."

"Got it." She didn't argue, which was refreshing. This horrible day was going very well from a team management perspective.

"You ready?" Steve asked Loki. The demigod confirmed with a silent nod. The others backed up until they were about fifteen feet away from the entrance, standing in a four-person semi-circle.

"If they stir, do not breathe," Loki said, sending a slice of light down the sliding doors and pulling them apart with invisible power.

"OK." Steve walked slowly, cautiously into the room, stepping lightly and making sure his feet weren't hitting any remains. The green stuff only moved when air hit it, blowing back a bit and settling quickly like fog in the valleys of Iowa. He pulled one of the dishes out of his pocket and gingerly knelt to scoop some of the floating matter immediately in front of him, figuring it would be best to get a well-oxygenated sample first. Loki's shadow loomed behind him, so Steve stood again, trying to breathe shallowly to help the magic protect him.

He took another sample with a cotton swab and secured the lid before really surveying the bodies around him. It was bad. Children, adults, it didn't matter. The microbots had eaten them away and left nothing but graying mush and bones. Only a couple had made it as far as the doors both further into and out of the building, and their escape attempts were smeared over the glass. Most others had collapsed where they ran. Steve took a couple samples from the very edges of their melted bodies, telling himself it wasn't disrespectful if it helped catch the bastard who'd killed them.

"Give me those," Loki said, reaching for the collection of vials and dishes Steve was having trouble holding onto with just his left hand. Steve handed them over without complaint, and the dark-haired man vanished them without a flash.

As soon as they were gone, the mist started shifting unnaturally, all gathering into a mass in the middle of the room right in front of Steve. He stopped breathing, felt Loki's hand on his arm, and then he was outside, stomach roiling and heaving. He heard something slam, and Tony's metal-covered hands were helping him up amid shouts and panic. Many more people had gathered to watch the sample collection from a safe distance. Now some were trying to get away from the closed hospital doors, and some were trying to get closer. Steve glimpsed Elle and Darren just a few feet away from the entrance, and Loki's armor flashed from inside. Jet was on the edge of the moving people, hackles raised, shimmering like he was about to transform.

"We have to get him out of there." Steve pushed back his lingering nausea, shoving his way to the front of the crowd. People moved when they saw they were in Captain America's way.

"He's not melting," Rumlow reported when Steve reached him, peering through the doors. "That stuff's like… a man?"

"It's Tiryaki," Steve told him, grinding his teeth. The mass wasn't really the terrorist, but it was a close likeness, and it was… talking to Loki. And Loki was talking back, turned mostly to his opponent but ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

"Shh," Eleanore and Darren said at the same time. Elle spared Steve a quick glance, "Shut these people up, too, please."

"Everyone, quiet now!" Captain America shouted in his most authoritative voice. Again, immediate results. Yelling died to mutters in an instant, and even those faded when Steve glared at the speakers. When he turned back, he was greeted by a flash of light as the visage of Tiryaki exploded.

It wasn't powerful, not like the original bomb. The glass barely rattled, and the bodies on the floor remained intact, from what Steve could see. Loki was gone, though, and there was no green left in the room.

"Where'd he go?" Rumlow asked.

"I'm getting no residual energy readings," Darren said, pulling up a holographic display from his suit's hand.

Steve could see a colored image of the room, mostly blue, turning green wherever outside light shone in the doorway. "Play back to the explosion. We have to find Loki."

"Consider me found," Loki said from directly behind him. Steve turned and met a grim, amused smirk and blue-green eyes.

"Are you okay?" Eleanore asked, just as Rumlow inquired, "What did he say?"

"I am unharmed," Loki answered the first one, regarding Rumlow disdainfully. "I would confer with Doctor Banner and the other experts gathered in lieu of repeating myself many times over." Steve realized that he could see Loki hedging, not revealing everything for some reason. They needed to get him away from SHIELD's spies and ears.

"We'll call a conference," Tony spoke up from beside Rumlow. "Press or no?"

"No press," Steve said. "Let's get a handle on what we're dealing with. Rumlow, you get everyone together. Tony, Darren, Rain, Loki, and I will go back to Banner and regroup." He looked around, letting the uniform speak for him as well, calling the shots with ease. "Let's move out."

Rumlow gave him a long look, but he didn't argue, turning and heading to the nearest SHIELD tent. Steve set off back to Banner's lab tent, hoping he and Jet were still there alone.

They were. "How'd it go?" Banner asked, stepping forward and looking them over as they filed into the crowding space. "I heard some chatter about an apparition or… something. Everyone alright?"

"We're fine," Steve assured him. "Loki, can you put a silencing spell on this tent?"

"Already done," Darren said. "I put one up when we got here. There's so many agencies here, I didn't want everyone listening in."

"That would be unfortunate," Fury agreed, stepping around one of the tall cabinets at the far end of the tent. "So what's the word?"

Steve pointedly avoided glancing over at Loki, who stood relaxed and grinning. The hedging was gone, replaced by an easy, carefree attitude that would have seemed open if Steve didn't know to look for the hard glint in Loki's eyes.

"Your terrorist plans another attack as we speak," the demigod started. "He deeply regrets the loss of his favorite prisoner, and said his revenge for the rescue is continued altercations until the Captain faces him himself."

"SHIELD doesn't negotiate," Fury scowled. "And don't even think about running off on your own again, Rogers."

"I'm not going to stand by while more people die," Steve retorted. "We can plan, catch him when I meet him." And if Steve was lucky, he'd get to beat the Tiryaki to a pulp before anyone intervened.

"That's not a good idea," Darren spoke up, folding his helmet back and walking out of his suit. "Those things had magic."

"Yes, as I was saying." Loki nodded in confirmation and half-glared around the group, especially at Fury and Steve. Steve had become used to Loki's glares, but they still threw other people off. "Those robots are ahead of Stark technology because they are controlled by a magic-user."

"Like you?" Fury challenged.

" _Not_ like me," Loki corrected him. "This magic is brutal and rude. There is no real savvy, just will and power."

"So you have will, power, and… what, exactly?" Tony asked snidely.

"It takes finesse, Dad," Darren rejoined. "You have to know exactly how to do what you want done, and in the most efficient way. Otherwise you're just throwing energy away, maybe killing yourself or other people if things get out of control. It takes decades of practice to be a master."

"You sound awfully experienced for a twenty-three year-old," Tony jibed. "All this sounds like intuitive hocus pocus."

"Yes, well," Loki cocked his head and looked sarcastically sympathetic, "all advancements sound so to those who fail to understand them."

"Alright," Steve said, getting between Loki and the Starks before a real fight could break out. "Back on the subject of saving lives." He wondered what Loki was hiding, and whether it was something they needed to worry about even more than Tiryaki's threats.

"If there's magic, you shouldn't go alone," Eleanore said from behind her helmet.

"She's right," Banner agreed. "Even if this guy isn't as… skilled as Loki and Darren, he got his message across here."

"So we just wait for another attack and hope to catch him?" Tony questioned. "No, Cap's right on this one. We can set up an ambush—"

"And what if they transport the Captain away, as I did?" Loki interrupted him. "All they need to do is take him somewhere I have never been, and they have hours to wait for our arrival, if we can find him at all. Not to mention the danger of mortal dabbling in the arcane."

"What do you mean?" Eleanore asked. "What sort of danger?"

"The power Darren mentioned," Loki explained, sounding more patient. "Mortals like you may have innate abilities to manipulate energy, but you lack the eons of study that go into magical theory. There are too many possibilities for obliteration to count."

"But if you _and_ Darren are part of the ambush," Tony pressed, "couldn't you contain the 'obliteration'? Or is that out of your pay grade?"

"Tony, that's enough," Steve said, growing annoyed with the assumption he still thought an ambush was a good idea. "If it puts everyone in danger, of course we won't do it. We'll figure something else out."

There was silence in the tent while everyone looked around at each other. Finally, Banner spoke up. "Did you get any samples out of there?"

"I have them. Just a moment." Loki held his hands out in front of him, and they were encased by a golden-green dome of light before the samples appeared. He stared at them, concentrating hard, his eyes glowing greener than normal. The magic faded, leaving plain dishes and vials with green stuff and biomass and cotton swabs. "The robots are permanently disabled. You should have no more apparitions to worry about."

"Thanks," Bruce took the samples and donned his gas mask again. "These look great. Can you tell me where each is from?"

Steve stepped forward to the table the scientist was bending over. "This one's from the floor right inside the entrance. These are further in, and this is… biomass." He stumbled over the last one, remembering the various bodies in states of distress, all dead because Steve hadn't handled his modern mission well in the first place.

"Everyone's gathered," Rumlow said, sticking his head into the tent. "They're waiting for a report before they send analysts in."

"Tell Hill to send the other agencies home," Fury ordered. "SHIELD's taking point on this."

"Yes sir." Rumlow disappeared again.

"Let's get some more samples and head back to base," Fury said next. "We'll plan from there, check out any potential targets, get a read on where Tiryaki is now."

The ride to the Triskelion was silent. Bruce tagged along in the SUV with Steve and Loki and Jet and Eleanore while Rumlow stayed and helped supervise the site's security. Steve sat in the driver's seat and watched the city go by next to Loki, who looked deep in thought. Bruce was dissecting something on his tablet's display, and Elle kept her helmet up so she could look out the window. It was a gray, humid day with the potential for rain somewhere in the monochrome clouds. As they distanced themselves from the attack's location, life resumed on the busy streets. Families walked on the sidewalk, tour groups drove by in large buses, people with giant signs threw them around in intricate patterns in front of stores.

The parking garage was full when they pulled in. It looked like everyone was called in for the attack. Steve felt a hollowing pit in his stomach at the thought of the wasted lives that could have been spared if SHIELD hadn't been so focused on catching Tiryaki's buyer. He took the wheel and finally found a parking space up on the fourth level of the garage.

The soldier in him liked to have a better escape route than three floors of constant sharp turns. If they had to get out of the building, Steve planned, they would get to the ground floor and down to the river bank. But then again, Steve didn't have to plan for regular humans anymore. They had Loki and Darren and Tony and Jet… They were close to home, and the Avengers facility here in DC would probably hold up as a fortress if they had to hide out. Steve would probably hold all of them back if they had to evacuate from a top floor, too. At any rate, Tiryaki surely wasn't going to attack a building full of trained killers. If anyone else took the opportunity today, it'd be very bad luck.

"What is that?" Elle asked Bruce, looking over his shoulder at the tablet. She finally folded her helmet back, and Steve thought she looked near exhausted. He wondered how much sleep she'd gotten the night before, what with birthing the calf and worrying about it. Jet stayed on her heels, a silent shadow, as usual.

"It's all the known acidic solutions strong enough to eat away skin," Bruce said, typing as they walked to the building's door. Various dots connected seemingly randomly, and descriptions in tiny text next to each image. "I don't think acid was involved, but it can't hurt to rule it out."

"There was no acid," Loki agreed. "I could only sense the microbots against my shielding. They are numerous, for such intricate things."

"Do you think they were made with magic?" Bruce asked him familiarly. Steve almost shook his head at the new camaraderie the team was showing. Science and a common enemy broke down a lot of barriers, apparently. It was something to appreciate.

"I have not analyzed them closely, you must understand, but I would say so." Loki nodded seriously, drawing closer and looking over Eleanore's head to see the tablet.

"Come to the lab and look them over," Bruce invited. "You too, Eleanore. And Steve?"

"Sure." Steve figured the whole team could gather in the lab to discuss the problem, track out possibilities. He wondered if Romanov and Barton would be joining them.

"Thank you, I shall," Loki accepted. Elle just followed along into the elevator. Bruce pressed a button for the second basement level, and they descended quickly until the glass of the elevator was covered by concrete. The ride came to a stop, and the doors opened into a gray hallway with widespread doors around the building's central hub.

"Fancy meeting you here," Tony greeted them in his civilian clothes, sticking his head out of a door about thirty feet away. "Come on in, the gang's all here."

The lab turned out to be a large white room with bright lights and a lot of computers and desks and strange equipment. Romanov and Barton were there, talking to Darren while the younger stark typed commands into a translucent screen. Another monitor showed a map of the city with lots of dots. Steve recognized it as a map of his locations he'd visited since he got hurt: the gym, the Chinese restaurant, the apartment building. The hospital's location was marked in red while everything else was yellow.

"I sent suits to the farm," Darren told Elle when she walked over to him. He placed his arm around her hips as she started looking through the computer to catch up on whatever he was working on. "They'll keep anyone away who shouldn't be there."

"Thanks," Eleanore said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hi Clint, hi Natasha."

"How was the vacation?" Natasha asked calmly. She glanced over all of them, discerning and discreet.

"It was nice," Elle answered brightly. She shrugged her shoulders a little and her suit fell away, folding into the mobile pack.

"Well you missed a hell of a party here," Tony told Steve, clapping him on the shoulder.

Steve fought the urge to shrug him off. "What do you mean?"

"I've been working on tracking down all the escapees from Tiryaki's boy band," Tony explained.

" _We_ have," Darren and Bruce said at the same time in the same annoyed tone.

"My house, my credit," Tony joked.

Steve sighed. "Anything to report there?"

"They're all off the grid, so to speak," Tony told him. "As soon as they caught you, they went to ground. No cameras have caught them, no cell phones in their names, not that that means anything. No bombings in the area."

"Perhaps they followed us here," Loki suggested.

"Nice theory, Rock of Ages," Tony jibed. "We've been through every second of surveillance footage covering airports, shipyards, even buses here since Cap got hit, and nothing shows up except Tiryaki."

"Have we solidly identified his partners from Turkey?" Steve asked.

"At least four of them, and they're no-shows," Clint chimed in.

"Tiryaki might have gone solo," Natasha suggested. "He could make a lot more with that tech if he didn't have to split the profits with partners."

"So why use it for revenge?" Steve countered.

"And where did he find the magic for making them?" Loki added. "There was no trace of such a thing in Turkey."

"It's so weird to hear you talking, you know, sanely," Tony told him thoughtfully. "Really, no offense meant on that one."

"Could you have missed magic if you weren't looking for it?" Elle asked, elbowing Tony into silence.

"I do not see it in literal terms," Loki informed her. "It is a sense, rather like your empathic abilities."

"So that's a no?" Tony prodded.

"I would not have missed mortal dalliances with magic," Loki confirmed. "There was nothing there."

"So who's the new player?" Clint asked, frowning. "Magic isn't anywhere on the Level Seven files, unless you're talking alien."

"That is because no humans should be trifling with it," Loki said. "But this one, obviously, is. I believe he or she would have appeared as a problem before if they were criminally inclined."

"So Tiryaki's coercing them?" Steve crossed his arms, considering.

"Or he found someone who did not shy away from an opportunity," Loki proposed. "I would imagine payment for such talents would be considerable."

"But you said we'd have heard of them by now," Clint pointed out. "Magic assassin? We'd notice."

"You have no tools to notice it with," Loki corrected him. "Darren is the only being of this world who could have helped you identify such an individual, and you were, as Eleanore said, not looking for them."

"So what _are_ we looking for?" Fury asked, striding into the room.

"We're not sure," Steve answered, looking at Loki, who nodded agreement. "A magic user, for sure. Not Tiryaki. He's got someone working for him; someone new."

"Perfect," Fury muttered. "How can we locate them?"

All eyes turned to Loki and Darren, who looked at each other and shrugged. "We don't have the tools for that yet," Darren said.

"We could base them off of the spectrometers, though," Bruce suggested, looking up from the microscope he'd commandeered. "That's how we found the scepter."

"We'll have to make them a _lot_ more sensitive," Darren said, walking over and pulling a tablet up. "Otherwise we'll pick up every power surge and thunderstorm and sun spot."

"Not to mention the power threshold of any mutants around," Loki pointed out, joining them around the table. "If the person we are dealing with is anything like a normal magic user, their powers would be almost imperceptible if they were dormant."

Darren nodded along. "I'll start mapping some diagrams of the energy we're looking for. If we get a spectrometer down here, can you take a look at it?" He looked over to Fury. "Could I get some printer paper, clip boards, and pens?"

"Sure," Fury said. He pulled out his phone and punched a text into it. "Stark? Anything else?"

"I'm going spectrometer shopping," Tony said. "Jarvis will make a list of parts to get delivered in DC so we can modify one of our own."

Fury nodded and finished his message. "Romanov, Barton, contact everyone you know who might have information on Tiryaki or his magic assistant." His phone rang and he raised it to his ear. "Fury." Steve couldn't hear whoever was on the other end of the line, but the call didn't last long. "Yes. Yep. Get them the parts they need. Keep this top secret. Go." He hung up and glared around with one eye.

"What can we do, sir?" Steve asked, including Eleanore in his question as Tony, Clint, and Natasha left.

"Keep an eye on your charge," Fury said, raising an eyebrow at them. "Isn't that your job now?"

"He's not a child," Eleanore protested, putting a hand on her hip.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Fury said. "That's why you two need to watch him."

"We might be more useful in the field," Steve interjected diplomatically.

"I know that, too," Fury commented dryly. "You're the ones who brought him back here. Deal with it."

Steve fought back his own frustration to give Elle a look that said, " _Don't fight him right now. We'll figure something out._ " Fury could 'punish' them all he wanted; bringing Loki back to Earth was the right call. Everyone else would see that, in time. "We'll see what we can do from here."

"Keep Hill updated." Fury left before any more arguments could be made, which was good. Elle had gathered herself, and Steve was willing to bet she had some really good points to share.

"Everything will calm down after a while," he told her. "It's only been about a week."

"Long time to have their heads up their asses, though," Elle scoffed with a glare at the closed door.

Steve let himself grin at that. "Yeah, well… The smell will get to them before long. Let's check these spectrometer plans out."

"There's nothing you could understand," Loki informed them flatly as they approached. Jet wandered into a corner and laid down with his head between his paws.

"Hey," Eleanore protested. "We're not a stupid as you think."

"I thought you weren't a mind reader," Loki mumbled sarcastically.

Elle ignored him, going to stand over Darren's screen. "What about multi-spectral imagery for scanning the city?"

"What's that?" Steve asked, not worried that Loki or Bruce would think he was and idiot. Compared to them, he probably was. Howard had thought worse when they first met, and a real friendship had formed there. Elle could prove Loki wrong if she wanted to, and welcome, but Steve was more worried about getting all the facts.

"It sees things our eyes can't like thermal energy," Eleanore explained.

"Depends on what kind of camera you have, but yeah," Darren agreed. "That's a good idea. I'll have the printers slap some together and fly them down here on drones."

"How long will that take?" Bruce asked.

"Probably five or six hours," Darren admitted with a wince. "Drones aren't that fast. But it gives me time to write a program to identify the right types of energy and whatnot."

"Are we certain this magic user is in the city?" Loki inquired, looking up from a tablet inscribed with strange symbols.

"You're the one to ask on that," Darren said. "How powerful do you think they are? How far away should they have been to do all the bot control?"

Loki considered this, staring ahead at the far wall. "This estimation would be very vague and prone to error."

"But you have an estimate?" Steve pressed.

Loki looked him in the eye. "On a scale from Eleanore to me, I think this magician would fall well above Darren."

"Vague is right," Bruce chuckled. "Can you get any more specific?"

"They would likely be in the city," Loki clarified. "As I said, though, this estimation could be false."

"Better than nothing," Steve told him. He didn't get a response.

"Loki, could you explain what we're looking for?" Bruce requested after a moment.

"Certainly." Loki set the tablet down and threw the display up into a holograph. "Energy manipulation goes far beyond what humans are currently capable of, and for good reason. It is dangerous, but rewarding if you know what forces you control." Steve looked the symbols over, impressed with Loki's grasp of modern tech. Then again, Loki had a lot more advanced things on Asgard, probably.

"So like dark matter? Base manipulation of atoms? What?" Elle asked.

"All of the above, I suppose," Loki frowned at her. "In simplest terms, magic is an advanced form of your science. Anything is possible, but at a cost, usually power." He paused and looked around. Steve felt a bit of confusion, which was also reflected on Bruce's face. Darren seemed up to speed, and Eleanore looked focused. "These symbols can be translated into equations, if you like. What else may I illuminate?"

The question was met with awkward silence for a few seconds. Steve realized no one else knew what to ask because they still didn't understand it. Steve himself just accepted Loki and Darren's magic as something they could do, like Elle's water thing and healing, or Jet being a dragon. People like Tony and Bruce, though, liked to understand things. At least with Tony gone, the situation was a lot less intense.

"I already get it, so…" Darren trailed off. "What are you wondering, Bruce?"

Bruce shrugged and took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I can tell you know what you're talking about, but I just… I guess I'm not wrapping my head around the possibilities yet."

"Maybe 'illuminate' was the right word," Elle chimed in. "Loki, could you demonstrate some stuff, like particle manipulation or that light thing you do?"

"I could." Loki raised his hands, summoning the orb of greenish white light above them.

"Let me point some sensors at you?" Bruce asked permission even as he darted around the lab and gathered equipment. He even dashed off a list of items and sent them through an email to SHIELD so some agents would gather and deliver them. Loki let him set up, handing off the light to hover above Eleanore's hand when she reached for it.

"I don't feel anything," she remarked, raising and lowering her arm to see if the orb would keep up. It did.

Steve walked over and took off a glove to feel for himself. It was like passing his hand through air. "How do you do this?"

"Darren is also fully capable of such a working," Loki hedged. "Has he not explained it to you?"

"He says he pulls light from the air, but is it a chemical reaction? Because something with actual light energy would probably burn, right? Or am I totally off?" Elle asked, trying to shake the light off her hand. It just stayed exactly the same distance away from her skin. "How do you make it stick?"

"The spell's attached to you," Darren said, looking up from his computer. A couple more orbs, a bluer kind of white, appeared next to his head and floated over to Bruce, following him around as he set up a couple of cameras.

"Attached to what? Is it DNA based?" Bruce asked, poking at one of his lights with a corded stick attached to a yellow box. "These things don't have a charge."

"I'd say yeah, to DNA," Darren nodded, walking around and taking Elle's light away. He put his arm around her shoulders and sent the orb flying up to the ceiling and back to his palm. "I think Loki would say they're attracted to your essence, which is what makes you unique, so… DNA, as we know it."

"When did this turn into a sideshow?" Tony asked, walking in and looking around at the three displays of magic going on in a science lab.

"We're measuring," Bruce told him calmly. "Figuring out what magic looks like and how to let our sensors pick it up."

"I got a call that the energy bugs in this room were going haywire." Tony swatted at one of Bruce's lights, but his hand passed right through it. "Can't leave you kids alone for a minute. What are we seeing?"

"So far, it's… totally explainable." Bruce put his hands on his hips and cocked his head at the screen he was examining. Steve walked over and saw yellow spots that faded to green and blue and purple. "These are a little, uh, brighter than the air and walls, but nothing major. I still don't understand what's making the light, but it's clearly not an energy source as we know it."

"I am the energy source," Loki supplied from Steve's side. "Or, rather, Darren is for these workings."

"So they're siphoning your energy? That one is?" Bruce looked Loki up and down, then picked up a camera. "May I?"

"Go ahead," Loki allowed, stepping back and standing straight. He summoned another light, floating it a good foot or so away from his shoulder. Steve edged away and watched the screen.

The camera took a second to adjust. When it did, Loki appeared as a bright white outline, while the orb was purple and everything else about the picture was black. Steve saw Tony's face go slack with awe, so he figured this was unexpected.

"Darren, stand next to him," Bruce said hoarsely. "Steve, uh, you too."

Steve reluctantly turned away from the screen and did as he was asked, standing on Loki's right while Darren was on the demigod's left. They were in a scientific lineup.

"Is that even possible?" Bruce was muttering, holding the camera in an unsteady hand and looking at the screen.

"Seems unlikely," Tony muttered. He looked at Loki through narrowed eyes. "Are you messing with us?"

"I _could_ be," Loki responded, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't accuse him of stuff, Tony," Elle said, examining the monitor's display. "Loki, Darren, can you do some spells one at a time so we can record them?"

"When did you become queen of the lab?" Tony challenged her.

"That's what I wanted to ask next," Bruce shrugged him off, repositioning the camera. "I'm ready when you guys are."

Darren did the vine thing, then discarded it. Loki summoned something that looked like a blanket, then sent it away. Steve felt unnecessary, so he left them and went over to observe again. Every time they did something, the screen would light up with different colors until the spell was done. Objects Loki summoned— that blanket, a book, the little telescope— didn't appear on the camera, only the burst of energy that brought them into reality and dispatched them again. Loki's spells were actually darker in color than Darren's were, which Steve mentally chalked up to 'finesse' and experience and energy conservation. However, Loki's body glowed brighter on the display just as he performed every 'working'. Darren fluctuated more, from green when he wasn't using magic to orangish yellow when he was. Loki just barely turned yellow-white when he was resting, and completely white when he used a spell. Working. Whatever. Whenever he activated, everything else would dim, like the machines' displays were adjusting to a huge surge in energy.

"You can opt out of the tests whenever you want to," Elle reminded the two men who now had three lenses and multiple sensors pointed at them while they repeated simple spells.

"I think we've got some great data," Bruce agreed, shaking himself out of enthusiasm and going back to the normal, calm man he was.

"This isn't over, though," Tony added, pointing a finger at Loki. "You're like a walking nuclear power plant. I want answers. Like how your skin doesn't boil off with that much energy contained inside it."

"That can happen, actually," Darren said. He abandoned the magic and walked back to his computer, pausing and kissing Eleanore's cheek before he sat down and started typing again. "That's the dangerous part."

"But he's a constant powerhouse," Tony protested.

"Why don't you _ask him_ about it?" Elle suggested. "Loki, how does your skin not boil off?"

Loki looked a bit uncomfortable for a second before adopting a bland expression and striding to look over the recorded images. "I have never had a problem with… containment."

"There's no way you could even be a normal temperature with all that energy inside you," Tony said. He put a hand up to Loki's arm, but stopped when the demigod gave him a threatening glance.

"That reminds me: I need to get you to a doctor for a preliminary physical," Elle told Loki as she leaned her chin on Darren's head and watched him type. "Just so we know what's normal and what's not. It's called a baseline."

"Okay, Mother Hen, but back to the science at hand," Tony pressed, his attention still on Loki. "How do you deal out the energy for spells?"

"I envision the results I desire," Loki told him, still gazing interestedly at the screen. Darren's vine spell was replaying, casting bright yellow-green light up and across the screen for a moment.

Steve felt like the science wasn't as over his head as it had once been. At least he was getting used to the terminology, and he could sort of sense what Loki was trying to explain. Elle was like a conduit, sometimes, simplifying things to a level that Steve could reach and learn from. He could tell she knew a lot from just hanging around Darren and Tony for as long as she had. Steve wondered if the mysterious Pepper was just as savvy. Loki and Darren's explanations of magic also seemed simplified, even though that apparently confused Tony and Bruce. Steve thought it was probably the difference in their expertise and experience that caused the rift.

Tony was still arguing when Steve resurfaced from his thoughts. "But _how_ could you keep all that thermal energy contained?"

"As I said: you lack the capacity to understand magic itself. Any effort I make to explain it would be lost on you." Loki was losing his patience with the older Stark.

Steve couldn't blame him. "Want to go get a cup of coffee?" he interjected, stepping between the two men.

"I could go for some," Elle agreed, patting Darren on the shoulder and standing up straight.

"Two espressos, no whip, extra freedom," Tony ordered.

Steve could tell he was getting used to the future because he could tell what part of that order actually made sense. "I don't think the cafeteria has an espresso machine."

"I'll add it to the list of equipment we need." Tony typed another quick email and sent it.

While he was preoccupied, Steve and Loki walked toward the door with Elle in tow. "Darren? Bruce? Want anything brought back?" she asked the two less troublesome men.

"I'd take some water," Bruce grinned thankfully, turning his attention back to the microbot samples on the back counter.

"Same here," Darren said. "And food."

"I figured." Eleanore smiled as she finally headed out the door.

"What kind of food?" Steve asked, wondering if she had an idea of the menu for the day.

"Something filling," Elle shrugged. "Are you hungry for anything in particular?"

"No, I just wondered." Steve looked over at Loki, who was walking along and staring at the ground thoughtfully. "Sorry about Tony. You don't have to answer his questions if you don't want to." He was glad Elle had pointed that out during the tests, but he wanted to make sure Loki knew it. Even prisoners should have basic rights, and Steve didn't really see Loki as a captive anymore anyway. They wouldn't force him to share information any more than they would force him to fight. Although Loki seemed not to mind the battles so much.

"I will cooperate to apprehend this magic user," Loki responded. "I am curious about them myself."

"You said they might be more powerful than Darren?" Elle asked.

"Perhaps," Loki confirmed. "I would encourage you to keep an open mind."

"How do you rate power?" Steve asked, just out of curiosity.

"That scale I spoke of was arbitrary," Loki told him. "I was trying to put it in understandable language for Doctor Banner and Stark." Loki half-scowled, shaking his head as Steve held the door to the stairwell for them. "Judging from their reactions, Darren abandoned any attempt at magical explanation long ago."

"Tony doesn't like things he can't understand," Elle said, leaning away from the railing with one arm as a tether as she turned up the landing. "He's incredibly intelligent, so he's not used to someone knowing more than him… about anything. Darren's a little bit similar, but he's more open-minded."

"His time on other realms has served him well, then," Loki said.

They reached the ground floor and headed into the cafeteria. Steve's stomach growled, but he saw Loki hiding disgust at the food set out in trays. "We can pick up some sandwiches or something," Steve assured him.

"How comforting." Loki copied Elle, who'd picked up a tray and was heading through the line.

She got four fries and hamburgers, three bottles of water, and a large cup of coffee. "For Darren and Bruce and Tony," she explained defensively when she saw Steve and Loki looking at the abundance. Luckily the food was all wrapped in foil so she put it in a to-go bag and added cream and sugar to her coffee while Steve and Loki finished gathering what they wanted. Steve got a burger and fries, too, figuring they'd go back to help where they could in the lab and that the least messy food was preferable there. Loki got a prepackaged salad and caught a packet of dressing Elle chucked at him from the condiments bar. Something called vinaigrette. Steve picked up a water bottle and tossed it in his own bag, balancing a couple coffees for Tony and Bruce in his hands. He followed his teammates back down the stairs, hoping the short break had been enough to dispel some of the tension Tony had brought in.

"— that just _doesn't compute_ ," Tony was protesting as they walked in. Darren was seated at his computer with headphones on, typing away.

Steve sighed and forced himself to approach the scientific argument that was going on between the two men standing around the microscope and samples. "Coffee, Tony. Bruce."

They both took the drinks without sparing him a glance. "What other explanation is there?" Bruce was challenging, almost sarcastic.

"What I've been saying: he's messing with the equipment." Tony gestured at Loki with his free hand.

Steve caught Loki's gaze and the other man rolled his eyes and sat at an unused desk to start on his salad.

"Settle this for us, Reindeer Games," Tony called across the room.

"Stop it, Tony," Elle said, sounding dangerous. She stalked up beside Steve and shoved a burger into the older man's hand. "Eat something. Give us a rest. Here, Bruce." She handed Banner's lunch over as well and threw Darren's wrapped food to him as well: the two burgers and one order of fries. She kept the one order of fries for herself and pulled up a seat near the samples counter.

Steve went and sat beside Loki to present a distraction, since Elle had Tony handled. The older Stark started in on his food with vigor, glaring at the young woman balefully.

"So you explain it," he said around a mouth full of burger. "Since you know so much."

"Do you have scientists like this on Asgard?" Steve asked Loki, trying to ignore Tony for sanity's sake.

"In a moment, Captain. I would hear this in full." Loki stopped eating and turned ever so slightly back toward the argument. Steve did the same, watching the exchange and wondering what Loki wanted to see.

"What am I explaining?" Elle asked tiredly. She took a huge drink of her coffee and shook her head, like she was trying to wake up.

"The reason your pet demigod lights the thermal sensor up like a Christmas tree if he's not a volcano contained in Asgardian skin." Tony bit into his sandwich with satisfaction, like he thought he'd won.

"Well, aren't further tests needed? This is new territory," Elle said. "Did he light the other stuff up, too?" Steve glanced at Loki to see if he minded being talked about like he wasn't there. There was no irritation in Loki's expression, only interest.

"Yeah, just about everything except the radio wave sensor," Bruce informed her. "But Tony's worried about the thermals. Potential energy to be expelled."

"Well, if everything is reacting…" Elle narrowed her eyes. "Is this a trick question? Are you testing me?"

"No tests," Tony promised. "Just explain it. Use that Communications degree for science."

"Bigot," Eleanore accused, rolling her eyes. "If everything is reacting like it doesn't know what's going on, isn't it possible there's a new type of energy we don't understand yet? Maybe the sensors are just interpreting it as their energy because the machines don't know what to do with it."

Tony stopped chewing and really looked at her. "Say again?"

"Hey… yeah!" Bruce rushed over to the computer and pulled up all the different displays they'd taken with the various equipment. Line graphs and diagrams and images covered the screen. "We only looked at them separately, but these are all consistent with each other. Tony, come here."

Tony did go there, peering at the screen and swallowing his half-chewed bite. "Princess, are you sure you're not a scientist?"

"I'm right?" Elle sounded extremely surprised. She swiveled her chair and rolled over to get a better look at the monitor. "That was just a hypothesis. Not even, it was a guess."

"Well, now it's going to be a theory." Bruce beamed at her like a proud parent. "That's some great guesswork."

"Darren," Tony called. Darren didn't respond, still clacking on the keyboard. Tony threw a fry at him. "Darren!"

The fry hit Darren on the nose, and he wiped his face and blinked, annoyed, at his dad. "What?"

"She figured out the energy problem." Tony still sounded like he didn't believe it. Steve suddenly couldn't stop smiling, just happy Elle had taken Tony down a peg.

Loki turned back and started eating again, hiding his own grin. "More intelligent than she seems," he said when he met Steve's eyes.

"Elle did?" Darren asked, taking off his headphones and walking over to rub Eleanore's shoulders. Those two displayed affection a lot, even for a young couple. Steve didn't mind it, but it was very different from anyone he'd seen in modern times or in the past. They just seemed _so_ in love, and it projected itself into action whenever they were around each other.

"Yeah." Tony stepped back and looked his son over.

"Well, she's really smart," the younger man shrugged as if to say, _What do you expect?_ "I've told you that before."

"I guessed," Elle said again, looking up at Darren with a bewildered smile.

He kissed her forehead and smiled back. "Your guesses are usually pretty good."

"This one's going in physics textbooks," Bruce said from another computer. "Eleanore Engman's theory of magical energy."

"Science now runs in the family." Tony was more and more excited about the discovery, looking over at Loki's turned back, then patting Elle's shoulder.

"It's not really a theory, just an idea. You'll study it. And you should name it after Loki," Elle said. "Or Darren."

"Oh, I am already recorded in history," Loki waved her off almost jovially. "Take the credit you are due."

"I just guessed it," Elle said yet again. Steve could see she was growing uncomfortable with the praise and direct attention from everyone. She leaned back and hit her head on Darren's arm, looking up at him for help.

Darren seemed to understand, too. "Come record your thought process," he suggested. He pulled her, chair and all, over to the desk next to his and turned on the computer. "As the Mythbusters say: The only difference between science and messing around is writing it down."

Steve finished his now-cold food as everyone settled back down. Loki was already done, and he stood and walked over to observe what Bruce was doing.

"The bots really are tiny," Bruce commented offhand. "Do magic users typically make them?"

"None that I am aware of," Loki said, looking into the microscope when Bruce offered it. "Midgardians, though, rely much more heavily on this more primitive 'technology'. Little wonder this one combined their power with the familiar."

"Sorry we didn't, ah, understand before," Bruce added while Loki adjusted the lenses, "about the magic energy, I mean."

"I believe the miscommunication was mutual," Loki said magnanimously, not looking up.

Steve threw his garbage away in the can near the door, then went to see what Elle was doing. She hadn't typed in a while, but her finger was moving over the mouse's scrolling wheel as she gazed at the computer screen. "Thoughts recorded?"

"What?" Darren almost shouted from beside him, looking up with his headphones still on. He lifted them off his ears and Steve could hear loud, clashing music and screaming from the small speakers. "You need something?"

"Turn down the music," Elle told her boyfriend, laughing at his confused expression. "You were yelling. And yeah, Steve, my thoughts are recorded."

"Anything I can do?" Steve asked the both of them, noting the computer code covering Darren's screen and the random images on Elle's.

"The drones should be scanning the city soon. When they get here, you can analyze the promising images," Darren offered. "We need someone who recognizes Tiryaki pretty well."

"Speaking of recognizing him," Eleanore added, "I'm looking through facial recognition on regular security cameras to see if I can find him. The program is running in the background and I'm looking at the ones it pulls out. Want to do that?"

"Sure," Steve agreed readily, hoping it wasn't too complicated to learn. "Show me the ropes."

Both of the image processes were incredibly simple. The facial recognition software was only picking up twenty to thirty percent matches, and all of the ones Steve saw when Elle got him set up at a computer were quickly rejected. When he switched over, it was another learning process, but a quick one. Darren loved coding, and he wrote user-friendly things, so Steve picked the basics up in a few minutes as the drones began going over the city in a grid, starting with the hospital and fanning out. The images were compared to the ones taken from Loki and Darren earlier to keep the power levels in mind. Steve looked closely at each image, but the power sources the drones picked up were all either machines or really hot patches of concrete heated up by the afternoon sun. Darren modified the code to account for human-sized objects, but the results were about the same. Even the special cameras couldn't see through walls and ceilings, and Loki pointed out that the magic user would likely be recovering inside somewhere if they hadn't fled the city already. Steve let the findings from that program add up as he switched back to the facial recognition software, hoping to see a horribly familiar face.

The afternoon passed that way and leaned toward evening. Steve looked closely at every image he got, but they were all duds. Loki helped Bruce, specifically, learning about Earth's tech and using magic to improve it where he needed to. Steve heard him talking about magical theory on and off with Banner and Darren, but the demigod stopped whenever Tony butted in with sarcasm and snide questions. Steve couldn't blame him; Tony was being a real ass, for some reason. At least they stayed out of conflict.

"Steve." Elle's voice was excited and cautious at the same time. "Is this him?"

Steve leapt up and walked around his desk to look over her shoulder. Tiryaki was huddled under a hooded jacket, his phone held to his face. It was him, though, for sure. "Where is this? What time?"

"Five minutes ago at a bus station across town," she said, pulling out her phone and getting out of her chair. "Maria? He's at the Transit bus terminal on the north side of town. Tiryaki for sure, and we don't know if he's with anyone."

"Let's go," Steve said, picking up his shield form beside his desk chair.

"Hold on there, Star Spangled Man," Tony said. "We're not supposed to let you near this guy until we catch him."

"What?" Steve asked, feeling dangerous anger surfacing.

"It's true, Steve," Bruce said apologetically. "He's after you, so we're supposed to keep you safe. Not go out to get him."

Steve forced himself to stop and think critically about this. He _wanted_ to go _right now_ to get that rat bastard who'd killed people without a real reason. He wanted to keep his team safe. That weapon was potent, and there was unknown magic at play. Gathering the assembled Avengers in one small area was a perfect target for a revenge strike. Loki had said he couldn't guarantee Steve and Elle's safety, let alone the rest of the team and any innocent bystanders. "We should at least make sure SHIELD can handle him."

"I could go," Loki suggested from where he'd walked up beside Steve to look over Tiryaki's two-dimensional face. "Any confrontation could, therefore, be contained."

"Since when are you so helpful, Dapper Dan?" Tony challenged.

Loki, to his credit, ignored the jab. "If there is another bomb, I could probably detect it as well." He directed his words to Steve, turning a little to exclude Tony.

Steve frowned as he suddenly saw the barely-slumping shoulders, the conservation of movement, the almost glassy stare. _"You're tired,"_ he almost said. Stopped himself, because he didn't trust Tony not to comment snidely and because Loki wouldn't appreciate a weakness revealed here. "Can we observe them?"

"I've got surveillance footage from the station going over here," Elle said. "The software isn't finding him."

"You mean he's gone?" Steve wouldn't believe it. They'd been so close.

"Give it a minute," Darren said, pulling up the display for everyone to see. "Let's see where he went from there." He found the original image of Tiryaki and let the recording play from that point.

Tiryaki continued talking on the phone for a minute longer, although he turned away from the camera halfway through. Then he walked away down the concourse. The station was small, and it had seven cameras besides the ones at the ticket counters. They tracked Tiryaki through the building to the exit, and then he was gone.

"Jarvis, give me all the surrounding cameras," Darren ordered.

The screen split like when they'd played Mario Kart, only now there were three rows of four displays. Steve searched each of them intently, but Jarvis was way ahead of them, pulling a couple out where Tiryaki was clearly walking away.

"Hill? He's not there anymore." Elle was on the phone again reporting their findings. "We've got him walking out the south exit and heading west. Yeah. We're a couple minutes behind. Got him walking by a gas station on the corner… and there you are. You passed him like two minutes ago."

Steve shifted uncomfortably, tense from watching Tiryaki walk past SHIELD vehicles without being noticed. He wished he could just ask Loki to take him there, but that was impossible. Jet was the next option, but Steve figured the dragon would take offense to being in anyone but Elle's service. He sighed, keeping his attention on the screen.

Tiryaki walked past the gas station and around the corner, where security cameras didn't go. A traffic camera caught him crossing an empty intersection. He walked quickly, talking on his phone again. Then, mid-step, he vanished with a flash.

"What the hell?" Tony whispered, reaching around Darren and backing up the footage. The same flash took Tiryaki away. Out of sight, out of perception.

"Let me check the… there." Darren pulled up the spectrometer drone map. Every one of them was far from Tiryaki's location. Coincidence? Most likely, Steve decided. There weren't nearly enough drones to cover all of the city at once. No energy spikes showed where Tiryaki had disappeared from, or who had taken him.

"So we've got nothing," Elle observed dejectedly.

"We know whoever's doing this is smart enough to draw us out. They know we're watching everything." Tony rubbed a hand over his face, frustrated.

"They're teasing you," Loki said, looking at least interested. Steve noticed that whoever it was was teasing _them_ because Loki didn't include himself in the team. Maybe the distance would let him see things more clearly.

"How's that?" Bruce asked amiably, checking back through all the observation data for anomalies.

"Yeah," Tony added before Loki could answer, "how's this guy teasing _us_ , Reindeer Games?"

"He or she is giving you leads, letting your teams get laughably close, and taking them away," Loki said calmly. "Playing with you, and you are outmatched."

"But not you." Tony narrowed his eyes, gearing up for a full sarcasm display.

Steve knew it was time to step in and lead. "Okay," he said, holding up his hands. "What can we do with what we know now?"

"Basically, nothing." Darren leaned on the desk and typed in some commands. "We haven't got much more to work with now."

"Then let's take a break," Steve suggested. "We need to regroup, refocus. All of us." He spared a glance for Loki, to let him know that he was included in Steve's definition of the team.

"Fifteen minute break, boss?" Tony rolled his eyes and stalked away to the samples counter.

"Dad, isn't the new lab set up over at the D.C. place?" Darren asked, diffusing his father's temper with a few words.

"Yeah," Tony admitted.

"New lab?" Steve asked.

"In the gym over by your place," Darren explained. "We added a lab up on the dorm level. It's small, but the three of us should have plenty of room. We had the spectrometer parts and stuff delivered there."

Steve took a moment to appreciate the younger Stark and his helpful nature. "Let's head there, then. Elle, tell Natasha and Clint we're heading out and where to find us. Are we taking SHIELD vehicles?"

"No need," Elle said, pulling out her phone and texting. "Darren had a couple cars driven here so we could leave when we want to."

Steve didn't know when or how the couple had communicated that, but he was thankful again. "Then let's head out."

After a short discussion and a gathering of the supplies, they did just that. The cars Darren had ordered turned out to be smaller models of SUV's like SHIELD had. Darren, Elle, Jet, and Loki rode in one of them, and Steve took the one with Tony and Bruce to give everyone some breathing space. And to help Bruce manage the stress Tony might cause. Priorities.

They piled out at the gym, and Steve got his first look at the top floor. The lab was set far back in the corner overlooking the back parking lot and alley. The 'dormitory' area had a small kitchen with a table big enough for all the Avengers plus a couple spare chairs and a television set into the wall. The bedrooms were all in a hallway just off a small living room with two couches and two easy chairs and a large television. Full beds with white sheets and black quilts, spare white blankets in cupboards for clothes, small desks with rolling chairs. A small window for each room with neat blinds that raised and lowered with the touch of a button. White tile floors led around the entire floor and bright white lights were set to switches on the walls.

Steve figured Tony and Bruce would stay there tonight, while he, Elle, and Loki could head home. Darren would probably come with them, but Steve didn't want to assume. At any rate, the lab was much smaller than the SHIELD one, so things got tense again once everyone gathered inside it.

"What can we do?" Steve asked as everyone settled and started glancing at each other.

"You kids head on home," Tony advised, looking through a box of metal parts. "Let the grown-ups figure out _science_."

Steve saw Elle and Loki do the same lip-thinning glance of disapproval. He decided getting them away from Tony's banter would help more than hinder progress. "Call us when you find something." He cocked his head at his smaller team, and they reluctantly followed him out.

"I'll be here a while," Darren told Eleanore as she was last out the door. "If it gets too late, I'll stay here."

"Okay, love you." Elle kissed him on the cheek and shut the door.

"You are very affectionate to a man with such a father," Loki observed.

"He can't help how Tony is," Elle said with a yawn.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" Steve asked, taking the opportunity he hadn't had all day.

"Hardly any at all," Loki answered when Elle just gave Steve a _look_. "She snuck out to the barn at three this morning."

"Tattletale," Elle frowned at him. "I'm okay."

"We could walk you home," Steve said, ignoring the nobility and noting the time at eight PM. "You should get some rest in case we have to fight."

"What are you going to do?"

"I fancy a sparring match," Loki said. "If you don't mind, Captain."

"That sounds great. We can come back here when we—"

"I'll walk home with Jet," Elle said. "But thanks for your concern." She paused and looked up sternly at Loki. "Don't let Steve run off and fight alone, okay?"

"I wasn't going to," Steve protested as she walked toward the outside exit with Jet at her heels.

"Yeah, yeah," Elle waved over her shoulder. "Wake me up if something happens." She was gone with a flash of glass and the hiss of the hydraulic door mechanism.

"To be fair," Loki said, heading down to the basement, "you have a bad habit of going off by yourself."

"Bad habit, huh?" Steve absorbed the jab, figuring Loki needed to let off some steam after a whole day dealing with Tony and explaining things that were probably pretty mundane and obvious to a magician. "I'll drag you along next time."

"That would likely make the venture more successful," Loki quipped, changing his clothes as they reached the bottom of the staircase.

Steve took off the top part of his suit and his boots and followed Loki into the ring. He squared up and nodded to his dark-haired opponent. "You ready?"

Loki's answer was a quick volley of hits that Steve was prepared for and blocked. It seemed like the other man was moving more slowly, but Steve chalked it up to his own newly-healed body and all the running they'd been doing. The fight lasted longer, at least. At some points it seemed like Loki was distracted, his thoughts trailing elsewhere as he stared through Steve and held still for much longer than normal. Still, the fights lasted for a few hours, and Loki kept up his winning streak. In the end, Steve almost got a critical hit in, which would have at least left Loki with a sore jaw. But Loki's reflexes were faster, and he caught Steve's arm and swept his legs out from underneath him, pinning him to the mat with a forearm across the collarbone.

"You alright?" Steve asked, catching his breath and taking the hand Loki offered.

Loki pulled him back up and blinked slowly. "Yes, of course."

"Just seems like something's bothering you," Steve shrugged and settled back into the fighting stance, ready to get his ass handed to him again.

Loki just stood there for a second, considering. "I am weary as well, Captain."

"Oh." Steve could see that, had seen that. He was letting Loki be, though, more so than Elle. "Let's call it a night, then."

"Let's do." Loki exited the ring and held the ropes apart so Steve could do the same.

Steve picked up his discarded gear silently, still feeling like he was under observation. He didn't want to presume with Loki, though, or force him to share more than he already had that day. He tried to gauge how the demigod was feeling, but he only saw the hinting of sidelong glances from an otherwise bland expression. Mentally shrugging, Steve resigned himself to waiting for Loki to say what was on his mind.

"Wait," Loki said, halting Steve in place as he turned to go.

Apparently patience worked wonders. "What?" Steve asked.

"I was not completely forthcoming with SHIELD," Loki admitted. "I did not reveal all the apparition told me."

"I could kind of tell," Steve said, shrugging and trying not to react overly much. "Anything worth sharing?"

"It did say that you are the target," Loki began, turning away a little. "And that Tiryaki will strike again." He paused, staring Steve down with a piercing glare.

"And?" Steve prodded, careful to keep his tone even. Loki was trusting him, and he didn't want to jinx it.

"The apparition also said that I was wasted here, and gave me a location to join him. Alone. This night."

"What?" Steve couldn't believe it at first. "Where? When, exactly?"

"Somewhere I have never been, or even heard of." Loki shrugged. "The FDR Memorial at one o'clock. The Fourth Term section, whatever that means."

"I've never been there either," Steve frowned. "How does he expect you to find it in time?"

"The real question is, why do all you mortals assume I would have trouble navigating this simple place?" Loki rolled his eyes. "I have been to eight other realms, and some are much more complicated. I am hardly inexperienced."

"I never thought of that. Sorry." Steve sheepishly scratched the back of his head. He was trying to plan, but he didn't know the landscape or what other things to expect. It made sense that someone with magic would try to recruit Loki, but Steve was thankful that that wasn't possible at this point. What would happen when Loki refused? A memorial at one AM would be mostly deserted. The fewer people involved the better to avoid spooking Tiryaki and whoever would be watching his back. "But anyway, how do we get out of here without being seen?"

"'We'?" Loki asked. "Captain, this is much too dangerous for you or Eleanore. I am telling you so _I_ can leave, not so I can bring you along to get killed."

"You go with me or not at all," Steve asserted, wondering if this would turn into a real ordering situation. He held back, trying to reason. "I'll stay out of your way, but I won't send you alone." He thought for a second. "We should probably bring Eleanore, too."

"Obstinate," Loki accused with a glaring sigh. Steve could see he was more resigned than angry. He thought a moment more, and Steve wondered what was going on behind the impassive frown. "You two only add to my problems. You must do as I say, especially at the first sign of trouble. Stay near the dragon, so he can protect you."

"We will." Steve didn't know what trouble would look like, but he would listen to Loki's thousand years of experience. "Let's get this bastard."

"Language, Captain," Loki chided with a grin. "Did your mother teach you such callous, primitive—"

"Alright, alright," Steve interrupted him, shaking a grin away. "Just tell me your plan. How do we get there without drawing attention?"

"Well, we can go get Eleanore, first of all." Loki took charge almost tentatively, like he thought Steve was going to jump in and second guess him. "From there, we can gather information."

"Lead the way." Steve had no problem following someone else for a change. Loki probably knew more than he did about the given situation, and he'd protected Steve and Elle at every turn. Even with the hail, he'd tried to keep them from harm, even if that backfired. Steve tried to act natural as he mulled the situation over on the walk home.

"You can wake her," Loki said, unlocking Elle's door with a wave of his hand.

"Why doesn't your magic light up, usually?" Steve whispered, walking into the dim entry after Loki.

"I do not wish it to," Loki answered him at a normal volume. "After a certain point, control is habitual."

"More light means more energy?" Steve guessed, heading to Elle's bedroom door. He knocked a quick succession.

There was a panicked shuffling, and then she pulled the door open, blinking up in the near darkness. "Something happen?"

"Something's going to," Steve promised. "Suit up. We're going to catch Tiryaki."

"We have to watch _Mean Girls_ sometime," Elle said, sounding more awake. Charlie skirted around her feet and sniffed Steve's leg. "Is this like a secret thing?"

"If you hurry, it could be," Loki snarked from the living room.

"Just a minute then." Elle closed the door and Steve saw the light turn on underneath it.

He turned back to the main room and put the top part of his uniform back on, hooking his shield to his back. He'd covered the iconic symbol on the way back to the apartment, not wanting to tip anyone off that Captain America lived in this quiet neighborhood.

"Okay," Elle said, following Jet out of her room. "So what's going on?"

Steve looked her over. "You didn't suit up."

"I have a bulletproof vest on," Elle said, pulling the hood of her black sweatshirt over her braided hair. She did look a little bulkier in that and dark jeans and quiet tennis shoes. "I thought we were going incognito. I bet they can track my suit." She looked Steve up and down. "Yours too."

Steve kicked himself for not thinking of that. "I'll go change. Loki can fill you in." He left the apartment rapidly and sped through his own place, pulling off the uniform and leaving it on his bed in case SHIELD got really specific on tracking. He debated about his shield, but he didn't think Darren would have placed something like that in the refurbishing without telling him. He pulled on a leather jacket over his t-shirt and put comfortable jeans on to ward against the night's slight chill. Stuck two guns in his waistband, one for Elle, He didn't have a hooded sweatshirt yet, and nothing at all to cover his head. He messed up his hair in the mirror to try to disguise himself a little, hoping his body wouldn't stick out as much under the baggy clothing.

"Oh, very secretive," Loki teased when Steve finally got back. "Tell me, is your shield a common accessory for commoners?"

"We call them civilians," Elle informed him, frowning up at Steve. "I have a baseball cap you could try. We'll take the bus to the memorial so SHIELD doesn't notice my car's gone." She went over to the pantry and pulled out a dark blue hat.

"Thanks." Steve adjusted the strap and put it on before addressing Loki. "If we're going to fight, don't I need the shield?"

" _You_ will not be fighting," Loki corrected him condescendingly. "If you would just let me go alone, this could be much simpler."

"Not going to happen," Steve told him just as Elle said, "Nope."

"Then our prey will likely elude us." Loki was getting frustrated.

"Look, I'll leave the shield here." Steve moved to set the disk down on the couch.

"No," Loki sighed, stretching out his hands. "Hold perfectly still."

Steve froze, watching and waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He felt exactly the same when Loki put his arms down and unfocused his eyes. "What did you do?"

"See for yourself." Loki pulled that same mirror out of thin air and turned it toward them. Toward the wall? Steve looked at himself and Elle, then reached out to touch the glass. Loki disappeared the mirror with a smirk. "I can still see you, and you can see each other. I made sure the magic will not draw SHIELD's attention. You still make noise, as well, when you move. If they are observing the meeting place, they will hear you if you speak."

"So we're invisibly riding the bus." Elle was looking herself over suspiciously.

"It would appear so," Loki confirmed. "Shall we away? I believe the time draws near."

"Okay. I don't have a bus pass, so here's some money." Elle handed over a couple dollar's worth of quarters. "Just use all of them so we're not stealing. Jet?" she looked down at the dragon, who acted like he could still see her. "Want to meet us there?"

Jet transformed immediately into a bird, a crow to be exact, and leapt out the top of a window Elle opened for him.

"Very well." Loki just stood there with the quarters in his hand, seemingly unimpressed by the display. "I presume you will lead me to the correct place."

 _Thought you could navigate this backward realm?_ Steve thought, amused.

"Yeah, come on." Elle led the way out the door and locked it before handing the keys to Loki. "We should get you a copy of these."

"I cannot respond to tedious chatter when we are under scrutiny," Loki informed her, sounding tense. Steve guessed he was gearing up mentally for battle, even if he didn't have his armor on yet.

Steve stayed quiet as they followed Elle to the bus station a block away. He kept glancing at reflections from windows and trying to see anything in front of or beside Loki. Even when Steve was between the demigod and the reflective surface, there wasn't so much as a flicker to disrupt the other man's image. No shadows, nothing to indicate Loki had company.

"You'll want the orange bus line," Eleanore said when they reached the little glass enclosure. "It looks like all the other buses, but says 'orange' on the light-up sign."

Loki didn't look like he was listening, staring straight ahead and standing straight. He was still wearing his exercise clothes, and looked like a tall, normal person going somewhere in the dead of night. The street was deserted, for the most part, except for the rare car passing along the busier thoroughfare a couple blocks down. A fresh, brisk breeze swept dead leaves and litter along the gutters.

"Oh, I don't remember the stop's name where we need to get off. I'll tell you when we get close. To tell the driver to stop, you have to pull this red cord above your seat."

Steve logged that information away to remember if he ever took the bus anywhere. He hadn't scanned a map of the current public transportation systems in DC or New York yet. It was something he probably needed to do, since missions like this were likely to come up in the future, without the helpful mutant standing casually between him and Loki.

"Here it comes," Elle said a moment later. A bright, empty bus meandered down the street and pulled to a hissing stop in front of them. The outside smelled like exhaust, and the air that rushed out as doors opened was indefinably bad. Steve saw Loki's nose wrinkle as he followed Eleanore onboard.

"Hey, late night?" the portly, bald driver asked.

"Indeed," Loki said, affecting friendliness pretty well. Steve sat by Elle in one of the frontmost seats and watched the exchange. Loki held out the quarters. "My apologies, I seldom use this transportation. Will this suffice?"

"Fifty cents is plenty for the whole route," the driver told him, taking two quarters and depositing them in the clear box next to the steering wheel.

"Thank you." Loki sat on Eleanore's other side, looking oddly at the stuff spread over the floor from the bus's day. Steve could see old candy wrappers, a fabric grocery bag, now stained with brown ooze, an apple core, orange and banana peels, bobby pins like Elle used, broken and torn leaves.

"So you got a destination in mind, man?" the driver asked politely.

"The FDR Memorial," Loki said.

"Oh, doing a night run?"

"Yes," Loki confirmed, glancing down at his clothes, as if reminding himself he was still dressed like a human. Steve thought the demigod probably wasn't keen on the idea of an extended conversation with another human, if he'd dismissed Elle so quickly.

"Any path your favorite?"

"I am new to this city," Loki said honestly.

"I shoulda guessed," the driver said. "You got people here?"

"People?" Loki asked, confused.

"Family. I moved here ten years ago to be around my kids."

"Oh." Loki scanned over the bus, avoiding Eleanore and Steve to his left. "I have… colleagues. Where do you hail from?"

 _Deflecting,_ Steve thought to himself. _Colleagues my ass. But at least he knows he has us._

"Oh, I'm from the west coast," the driver answered. "You?"

"Germany," Loki said.

"Would've pegged you for British with that accent," the driver said.

Elle reached over and poked Loki's arm, nodding up to the red cord. He reached up and pulled it and stood up, saying, "Thank you for the transport."

"Anytime," the driver answered. "Have a good run."

"Good travels." Loki followed Eleanore's lead and departed the back bus door into the night.

"It's just down here," Elle said, pointing down a tree-lined path lined with white lights. On one of those lights, Jet perched and watched their progress. Steve figured it was a good thing the dragon was so great with inconspicuous disguises, because no matter what he looked like, he acted the same. Then again, Steve reconsidered, Jet was probably only being inconspicuous to go along with what Elle wanted. How did a being go from roaming the skies to following a 'mortal' around?

 _Focus._ Steve sank into it, letting himself feel every stir of the air, hear every snapping twig and faint footstep. Focus kept him and his team alive, and he trusted it. Action, reaction, observation. He was literally made for this.

The wind was stronger here, so close to the Potomac, and it was cooler. The trees rustled, and a little glowing clock along the path read a quarter til one. When they got to the actual memorial and saw President Roosevelt's face (Steve had met the guy once, when he was still touring the US as a showpiece) and quotations, Elle quietly stepped forward and led Loki through the shadows, through the terms of one of the longest-reigning presidents. They meandered past hallmarks of Steve's childhood: the Great Depression, the rebuilding of the economy, the second World War. Waterfalls and pillars lit accomplishments of the president, and Steve found himself reliving fireside chats with his mother as they rested from a difficult day of existing. Sarah Rogers had had a difficult time keeping a steady job as hospitals kept cutting and raising funding. Steve remembered eating half a can of beans and feeling grateful because it was more than a lot of people in his neighborhood had. Things had begun looking up a little before the War, but by then Steve's mom was gone. She'd died a hero, in his mind, healing tuberculosis patients who nobody else wanted to treat. Her death had been comparatively slow, but Steve remembered it as sudden: there one night and gone the next morning.

Steve shook himself; he needed to be in the moment now, not chasing his memories from so long ago. He noted Eleanor Roosevelt's statue, and remembered her works during FDR's presidency. Looked ahead to Elle walking beside Loki, and wondered if Lydia had had that in mind when she named her daughter.

When they reached the fourth term, Elle left Loki's side and followed Steve over to a sculpture of stone, where they stood and waited in the shadows. Steve couldn't see Jet, but he figured the dragon would be close by and inconspicuous, protecting Eleanore if nothing else. He hoped the drones weren't anywhere nearby, so they wouldn't sense the two magic beings' out-of-place energy signatures. He also hoped Jet was just as tough in other forms, because the trees surrounding them wouldn't be great for his wingspan.

Elle patted his arm and held her wrist up to indicate a watch. Steve showed her his, which said they had five more minutes until one o'clock. She pulled both of her asps from inside her jacket and held them at the ready. Steve adjusted his grip on his shield and listened as hard as he could for any indication of someone approaching.

There was nothing for a good three minutes. Just the sound of the waterfalls, the distant river, the wind in the branches. Steve smelled the flowers grown along the paths, along with Elle's shampoo. She was also looking around attentively, biting the inside of her cheek and rolling her shoulders to keep her muscles warm. After too much stillness she'd also fidget, tapping her toes on the ground, her fingers against her weapons. Steve put a hand on her shoulder, even as Loki stiffened and turned away from them and footsteps appeared out of nowhere.

"I see you took my message seriously," Tiryaki's voice said. His form fully materialized out of the darkness with a flash, all bulletproof fatigues and combat materials. Guns, knives, even a taser were evident on the gear belt he wore. "Wise choice."

"One can never have too many options," Loki rejoined casually. When he wanted to be, and when one didn't know him very well, he was great at acting. "What offer have you to make, to lure me from the bright light of heroism?"

 _Wordy,_ Steve thought. _Convincing, though._ He was having a hard time holding still with the target so close. Just kept telling himself that magic wasn't something to mess around with, not when other lives depended on him. Loki wouldn't let the terrorist escape.

"The Avengers claim you," Tiryaki noted. "Or so I hear. But your talents are much more valuable than that band of brightly-colored thugs realizes."

"Well, experience breeds knowledge." Loki shrugged the half-compliment off and moved a little to the west so Steve had a clear line of sight to Tiryaki. The demigod clasped his hands behind his back, the picture of ease. If not for the palm waving outward, signaling Steve and Elle to stay back. "Am I to understand you would _value_ me more?"

 _Not likely,_ Steve answered him. Any crowd Tiryaki ran with would appraise people for their power, not their personal worth. Instrumental versus intrinsic value.

"Your abilities would be put to better use, at the very least," Tiryaki said. "If protecting the Earth is what you're after, the Avengers will only take you a margin of the journey."

"Ah, you're protecting people. Forgive my surprise, but I have never before seen melted, innocent bodies displayed as a sign of conservation." Loki was smiling sarcastically, from the tone of his voice. For the first time, Steve wondered how much the attack had bothered him. Probably a lot, if the demigod had never seen war. They bothered _Steve_ , and he'd seen… worse.

"I work with visionaries," Tiryaki said. "And visionaries are often misunderstood in their time." He turned a little to the East and read one of the quotations from the wall. " _The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today. Let us move forward with strong and active faith."_ He faced Loki again proudly. "Wise words, wouldn't you agree?"

"You're out of your depth," Loki informed him. "I will not work with anyone who so sorely underestimates their opponents."

"Do we underestimate the Avengers?" Tiryaki asked angrily.

"I was speaking of myself," Loki said, raising a glowing hand. "You saw a fraction of what I can accomplish at that pitiful excuse for a base. Have you forgotten so quickly?" Steve guessed that Loki was looking particularly intimidating, even without armor.

"Have you forgotten we captured _Captain America_?" Tiryaki asked nervously. "Like you, we have not yet shown our true power."

"Who is this 'we'?" Loki asked. "I have only seen your work and a pitiful attempt at _seidir_."

"My affiliations are secret to those who are not involved with them," Tiryaki said, raising his chin. "Are you interested or not?"

"A bit blunt, for an invitation." Loki examined the magic swirling around his hand. "What if I agree?"

"You come with me," Tiryaki told him. "Transported to a more… private location."

"As appealing as that sounds… no." Loki thrust his hand out and Tiryaki was thrown across the courtyard and into one of the monuments. Magic, not Loki's, exploded through the air and then the man was surrounded by… robots? Metal android-looking things that flashed silver in the orange of the memorial lights. And the energy was moving like the green gas from that morning, surrounding Loki in a microbotic haze.

Whatever they were, Steve wasn't about to let them take Loki out or Tiryaki away. He sprinted forward as the larger bots started shooting at Loki, and took one out by punching his shield through its neck. Elle was there, too, and Jet. Tiger-Jet. That was neat.

The bots were a lot tougher than the Chitauri, and they didn't have the same weak points humans did. They were also bulletproof, even though the shots dented them badly. Steve watched Elle get lucky on a strike to one's chest, which dented the plating enough for her to hook an asp behind it and pry it off. She avoided the flailing, lethal arms that were shooting everywhere, and ripped wires out before whirling away to her next target.

Steve tried that, too, and found a power source in the next bot's back. Loki was fighting magically, and it looked like he was pulling the other power away from Tiryaki and severing it string by string. There were a lot of strings. Steve backed up to the demigod and acted as a shield to keep the robots from shooting him.

This was easier than he'd thought it would be. Steve realized, after a moment of watching the bots aim erratically, that he and Elle were still invisible. Advantage: Avengers. Even his shield was imperceptible as he threw it through the air and took out leg joints, heads, guns. Jet and Eleanore were making good progress too, working together to take down each target in a matter of seconds. Elle wasn't nearly as fast as Loki or Darren or Steve himself, but he could see how she posed a threat to any normal humans who messed with her.

He had to focus on the bots that were closing in, though. Their bullets were nothing to laugh at, tearing holes out of the concrete around him. Steve wrestled one's gun to take out a couple of others, but there were still five left in his area. Steve laid into them as quickly as he could, but they started runnings around sporadically and scattering apart. He got three of them, and was setting into the fourth one when the remaining bot flew straight into Loki and tackled him to the ground.

The magic flared again as Loki ripped the bot apart and tossed it aside. Tiryaki was glowing again, almost as bright as the flash he'd appeared in. Loki rolled into a crouch and reached out a hand, and shot a beam of energy at the light.

Steve didn't see the shockwave coming, but he sure as hell felt it when he was tossed to the other side of the courtyard and everything went dark.

 **A/N:** _ **Sorry for the long wait! I'm in a research projects class, and writing for that has been taking up most of my time, not to mention the other courses I'm in. I'll be so glad when this semester is over. I've already started on the next chapter, though, and this one is the longest yet, to make up for the delay.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thank you! I admit, I wasn't planning on Loki and Lydia being so close, but it just kind of happened. I think he reaches out to her because she's someone he can value, like Frigga. She values him, too, which has been rare for him. Thanks for the review, and sorry for the long wait!**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **I did want Loki to make some progress, finally. To me, it seems like he should be realizing things much more quickly, and I get impatient with him. He's working on it, though. Poor guy.**_

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thank you for reading and sticking with this story for so long! I'm hoping to push out the next chapter by Sunday, October 9, but I can't promise that.**_

 _ **If you're looking for more things to read online, I've also started a forum-based blog called Petty White Rose on WordPress. I'll put the link below. Feel free to check it out anytime! Updates are on Mondays and Fridays. I'm always looking for new inspiration for posts, so your ideas are more than welcome!**_

 _ **Thanks for reading,**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	26. Chapter 26: L Confidence

The explosion was… unexpected. It stole Loki's breath away and jarred his bones as he fought to keep his kneeling position on the twig-strewn pavement. The brightness robbed him of sight, so he could not even see the total effects.

 _The mortals_ , his mind recalled in a panic. How close were they? _Were_ being the optimal term. Had they even survived that blast? If they were too close, then hope was simply foolish. They could have been crushed by the magic's sheer force, not to mention the potential horrific injuries if they'd survived. Memories of Steve covered in blood, imagining Lydia's horror at the news of her daughter's demise. Odin's dispassionate scowl as he sentenced Loki to death at last. As the spots cleared from his vision, Loki looked around and saw the robots were gone and his— the Captain and Eleanore and Jet were not noticeably near.

But… there. He could see Steve's form directly behind him, shaking and sluggishly rising to his knees. He'd hit one of the stone walls, and likely incurred some injury or other. Eleanore had been just off to Loki's right, pulling a robot down with ice and water and batons, and now she was nowhere to be seen. The magic should not have disintegrated her, but… Loki should have shielded them, no matter the risk of energy detection. Hopefully the mistake wasn't fatal. He rose and strode swiftly across the courtyard, kneeling beside Rogers and steadying him. Assessing.

"Loki?" Steve asked, catching his breath. Between his dark, bulky clothing and the way the Captain easily brushed off pain, it was difficult to gauge the level of damage he'd taken.

"Are you hurt?" Loki asked, looking around at the sound of footsteps and lighting upon a running Eleanore. So both of them were alive. Capable of speech, even. He backed off a bit so she could take his place next to Rogers.

"Did Tiryaki get away?" Steve asked, blinking around.

 _Of course you_ _'re concerned with that._ Loki glanced over to the prone, likely dead, form. "Well, his body is intact." And the magic that had tied him down was gone. Powerful, brutal magic that translated like clearly written runes to a mortal who knew might but not subtlety. Loki mentally readjusted his 'scale' from earlier, putting the mystery sorcerer closer to his own level, if still a bit below. He knew better than to underestimate such an enigma, but he also trusted his own centuries of knowledge. He'd fought powerful, clumsy magicians before. Midgard was evolving, and with progress came challenges. If Loki was forced to be here, he would take interest in dealing with this one.

"Steve, hold still. You were thrown into a wall." Eleanore put a hand on the Captain's shoulder and held him in place as he tried to rise, placing the other palm along his temple. "I mean, I think you're okay. Just got the wind knocked out of you. But it can't hurt to check."

"I'm fine," Rogers dismissed her impatiently.

"The medic says to sit still," Eleanore stated, her tone brooking no argument.

Loki stored the _medic_ term away for later use. "I will go survey our conquest." He stood and walked away slowly. Heard Eleanore let Rogers up when he was halfway across the pavement, and listened to their rushing steps as they caught up. "No injury, then?"

"Bruises," Eleanore informed him. "Nothing major. You shielded yourself? With magic?"

"And you escaped because of the dragon," Loki confirmed and observed, glancing at the beast loping at their side in the form of a large cat.

"Yep." She seemed to find nothing odd about that. Loki wanted to know how powerful the creature was, what it could consciously do, how it had learned to direct its will.

"Is he breathing?" Steve asked instead as they reached Tiryaki and paused. The electric lights here had been shattered, so the body was shrouded in near darkness. Loki called up a light and noted the surprising rise and fall of the terrorist's chest. He'd thought the magic would have fried the man. SHIELD would have seen the energy display, and they would be there in moments, Loki was sure.

"Let me see…" Eleanore knelt next to him. "Pulse erratic, but steadying… Shit, what's in his vest?"

Steve immediately pulled her back. "Bomb?"

"I think not," Loki said, taking Eleanore's place. He unclasped the body armor carefully, sensing nothing other than tissue beneath. He found a couple small knives, a gun in the man's waistband, but nothing unusual. "Does this allay your fears?"

"Shouldn't you avoid getting blown up, too?" Eleanore asked from the other side of the body.

"I believe I would fare better than you." Loki pulled the weapons from their sheaths as she lit the man's head silver.

"Nothing even broken. And he wasn't tossed very far, was he?" she asked.

"Not at all," Loki agreed. "But he was the origin of the force. When the other magic left him, its energy clashed badly with my own. I… was not prepared for that."

"But we got him," Steve pointed out, smiling in the white-green light of the orb. He looked triumphant for the first time since Loki had known him. Happy. Relieved, too.

Loki decided to save his suspicions and theories for later. Let them have a moment of peace. Eleanore was grinning, too, and her emotions were infectious. It reminded Loki of his first well-planned, heady battle so many years ago. A simple affair against some unexpected adversaries on Muspelheim. Loki let himself relax. This was… not so bad. Interesting.

"Should we handcuff him or something?" Eleanore asked, then.

"We're really close to the Triskelion," Steve said. "We could just take him there."

"I believe SHIELD will arrive shortly," Loki told them. "But at the very least, we can carry him back toward the road."

Steve lifted the unconscious man's arm and threw him across his shoulders nearly effortlessly, handing his shield over to Eleanore. Loki wasn't worried about his possible injuries anymore, now that Eleanore was ignoring the Captain's feats of strength. She was looking around at the carnage they'd wreaked on the memorial.

"We have defaced your… FDR." Loki grinned a little again at the errant chaos spread around this formerly lovely space. Now it mostly resembled a well-lit gravel pile with a water feature and mournful statues.

"SHIELD will clean it up," Steve said, leading the way out back up the meandering path.

"Cheated on his wife a bunch, anyway," Eleanore added, earning a baffled expression from Rogers. "Not public knowledge in 1944?"

"Not really," Steve replied, shaking his head.

Loki watched the president fall in Captain America's estimation with amusement. "Considered great, was he?"

"He was the reason they added the two term limit," Eleanore explained. "FDR was so popular that he got re-elected four times. But he died a few months after the fourth inauguration."

"As I've said," Loki let himself relax into fun after the battle, "an immortal ruler would solve those problems."

Eleanore and Steve both chuckled at that. Spirits were high. Loki felt himself almost floating in a weary, exultant haze that left him feeling quite well-disposed toward these… colleagues.

" _Loki, drop the magic and stand down."_ Agent Hill's voice carried artificially over the flat pavement as vehicle lights suddenly illuminated the front of the memorial.

So much for that. Looking around, Loki realized he'd neglected to make Eleanore and the Captain visible again. To the other mortals, Tiryaki's body appeared to be floating in midair. The dragon blended into the darkness quite well, so Loki was, for all concerned, alone. He had to stifle a laugh, even as he gently pulled the working away from his mortals' bodies. _Serious,_ Loki told himself sternly. _Be serious. These people will shoot at you. That would also be amusing, but they will hit these humans. They_ _'ll kill Tiryaki, and then where will you find this new magic user?_ That sobered him up enough that he could face the agents who were running toward them, guns raised.

"We've got Tiryaki." Captain America took command, sliding his burden from his shoulders and into the waiting arms of the black-clad men. "Handcuff him. Take him in for medical attention, then interrogation. We have reason to believe he's working with someone else."

"So let me get this straight." Fury was there. Loki enjoyed warranting that much caution. "You three just happened to know that an international terrorist would be hanging out here in the middle of the night?"

Steve and Eleanore glanced at each other, then met Loki's eyes, then looked away. Loki opened his mouth to admit to concealing that information.

"We got new intel after we left the Triskelion," Steve said quickly. "We knew he wouldn't be here long. We didn't want to spook him."

Well. That was interesting. They were in cahoots now. Was this kindness? Was it a trick? No, Loki understood these candid, like-minded beings already. They were protecting him. Why, he could not fathom. Likely, it would be much more difficult for them to drag him around on quests if he was or they were suspended by SHIELD. A united front gave the organization more assets to lose. Loki needed to protect these two in their travels, and the excursions provided much-needed breaks in the monotony of mortal life. He would play along, even if he was annoyed at being spoken for.

"And we got him!" Eleanore added to the distraction happily, though she bounced nervously to her toes. "Special delivery: not even hurt that much." In the bright light of the cars, Loki saw a long scrape across her cheek and a bruise on the back of the hand that was holding her asps. Who healed the healer? She was so excited from the battle that she probably didn't feel the pain yet, but she looked exhausted from the previous sleepless nights.

"Mmhmm." Fury wasn't impressed. He turned his eye on the agents who'd cuffed Tiryaki. Who were waiting for _his_ orders, not Rogers'. "Take the prisoner back to base. Medical, then interrogation, like the Captain said. You three," he said gruffly, "debriefing. Now. Go with Hill."

"Yes Sir." Steve complied willingly, heading to the vehicles.

Loki inwardly groaned. He was _so_ tired, and now he had to deal with more suspicion, keeping up the ploy the Captain had so willingly woven. A hero of this world lying to protect a known villain. Strange. And the lie was forced and clearly half-told. Loki would have to help fill in the details.

"How did you guys even get here?" Hill asked as they piled into the car. Eleanore rode shotgun, and Loki and Steve took the back.

"We took the bus," Eleanore informed her.

"The bus." Loki couldn't tell if Hill was inwardly laughing or seething. From the corresponding grin on Eleanore's face, he guessed laughing. "And you decided to give the energy analysts an aneurysm why?"

Loki had no clue what an aneurysm was. It sounded like a mortal malady. He decided to join the conversation regardless. "The battle was not a foreseen result of our actions." He trusted Eleanore and the Captain had not foreseen it, anyway. The moment Tiryaki had appeared, Loki had known it would end in a struggle. The magic had been too strongly woven for anything else.

"But you came prepared," Hill observed evenly, eyeing him in the 'rearview' mirror. Loki had learned that and other terms on the sixteen-hour drive to Iowa.

"We all did," Steve pointed out. Eleanore handed his shield back through the gap between the front seats. "We didn't know what exactly we'd be facing."

"Should have called us in about it," Agent Hill said decidedly. "We're supposed to be working together."

"SHIELD can take the credit, if you want," Eleanore offered with a teasing smirk. Loki reordered his assessment of her relationship with Agent Hill by the annoyed-but-accepting eye roll she got from the older woman. "But we're consultants anyway, aren't we? This is something we did on the side."

"The Captain signed up with us," Hill stated.

"I'm on the Avengers, too," Steve said. "I was working in that capacity."

"Very clean-cut," Hill snidely remarked as she pulled into a parking space in a mostly-empty garage. "We still need to debrief you. Better get the story straight."

 _Yes,_ Loki thought. _How will we explain the_ _'intel' and where should it have come from? A simple phone message? A sighting? What will SHIELD accept?_ More baffling still, how were these two basically honest, straightforward, stubborn people going to pull off such an untruth? And what if they should fail?

But there was no time to worry over that. Loki followed Steve and Eleanore into the building, conscious they had cameras monitoring their every move. They ventured through the bustling, artificially-lit main floor and onto the elevator that whisked them to the middle of the building. This effectively cut off all escape routes, or it would have, if Loki had no magic and if Eleanore's shadow was not a flying beast of Vanaheim. The dragon stayed on her heels without a sound, its presence a bright spot against an otherwise magicless background.

"In here." Agent Hill directed them down a hall into a nondescript, white-walled, dark-windowed room with a large glass table and far too many chairs.

 _Intimidation, then._ So that was SHIELD's plan. A poor one, for this bunch. Loki had been in far more terrifying situations, even recently, and Eleanore and the Captain flinched at nothing. So far as he knew. Perhaps the organization had another card to play.

"Have a seat," Hill bid them, standing at the head of the table.

Steve sat facing the window and Eleanore took the chair beside him. Loki sat next to her, mind racing into focus as the time finally came for the story. The dragon, again in wolfish form, shoved in between Steve and Eleanore and she absently ran her hand over his head.

"So. Who wants to start?" Hill put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. "We're already recording."

Eleanore shrugged, meeting the other woman's eyes and looking more innocent than Loki had ever seen her. "I came in a little late on this project. Steve and Loki woke me up at home, and Jet and I just followed along."

 _Clever._ She was letting Loki and Steve figure out their story between themselves. Much simpler to accomplish with two than three. And, so far, her tale was mostly honest. Loki had rarely worked with someone before who knew the simplicity of a well-told lie. Truly, he'd only really worked closely with Thor, who had the subtlety of a battering ram.

"Like we said," Steve continued confidently, "we got new intel on Tiryaki's location, and we caught him there." Again, mostly the truth, if Steve and Eleanore were the "we". Loki had known everything all along. He'd hesitated to share it even with his captors, but his entire body had gone numb when he even thought of leaving the gym alone. The slavery spell was effective. He would have brought Tiryaki back if he'd caught him, but having 'backup' had proved helpful when those robots appeared. Not that Loki couldn't have held them off, but he'd been intensely focused on cutting Tiryaki's magic ties, which left no room for a hasty shielding. It would have been sloppy.

"We all know that makes no goddamn sense," Fury said, striding into the room through the nearly silent sliding door. He stood beside Hill at the head of the table like an angry, one-eyed raven, arms crossed and scowl firmly in place.

"We wanted to catch Tiryaki before he attacked again. We didn't want to spook him, so we went by ourselves," Steve continued firmly.

"Where did the intel come from, Captain?" Fury pressed aggressively.

 _Hiding behind the mortals?_ Loki's pride teased. He cleared his throat. "It came from me."

Fury narrowed his eye in a glare. "Do tell."

"I have my own senses when it comes to magic," Loki began, warming himself up for a full report. The important thing was to keep these mortals out of trouble, since they'd already hedged for him. "This afternoon, when the microbots gathered, I also received an invitation to meet your terrorist this night. I informed the Captain, and we took Lady Eleanore and the dragon to intercept him."

"I made the call not to inform SHIELD." Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes at the protective, indignant tone Steve took.

"You made the call to follow _him_ into unknown danger," Fury corrected, raising an eyebrow. "And then you lied for him."

"It wasn't a lie," Steve protested.

"We _did_ learn new intel after we left," Eleanore added. "Steve and I, that is."

"So every time you find a new threat, you three are going to go deal with it?"

"And every time you find one, you'll hold us back?" Eleanore challenged. "You could have sent us out to get Tiryaki today, and we wouldn't have missed him."

Loki felt his stomach clench at her goading of this very powerful mortal. Protecting her and Steve was going to be a serious challenge if they both insisted on facing threats like this. Acting on emotions, mostly, and arguing their cases when that would only cause more trouble. Even though they were right, there was something to be said for backing away from a useless fight. Loki had learned that long ago.

"You were otherwise occupied," Fury pointed out, looking at Loki in challenge. "And in case you forgot, he almost didn't tell you about Tiryaki at all."

"We're a team," Steve said, meeting the director's gaze. "We rely on each other. Barely that, sometimes. We've been working together for just over a week, and we've been in the field even less. At this point, we trust each other the most."

 _Speak for yourself_ , Loki thought, habitually snide. He knew these mortals, understood them to a point, but he was a long way from trust.

"So you're trusting him now," Hill said skeptically.

"We never really weren't," Eleanore informed her. "And he's right here. You can talk to him."

"Oh, we will," Fury promised. "But you two have overstepped your bounds. What do you suggest we do about that?"

"If I may," Loki interjected, tired of staying silent as he and his fate were spoken of nonchalantly. "Lady Eleanore is a mere consultant, and I have no affiliation with you, contractually. I would argue that we used our best judgment, given today's events, and delivered the results to you." _You lost your prey,_ he let his eyes say. _And we had to find him for you._ These two Avengers' fights were his own, now. He could be as argumentative as they, _and_ he could predict the results more astutely. Fury had no recourse, had nothing but a sham of misplaced authority to hold them away from battle. SHIELD needed the Captain, and the Captain needed Eleanore. Both of them were responsible for Loki, so he was protected by their necessity. Fury knew all this, and his dubious sense of morality would not prevent his pragmatism from utilizing such indispensable instruments.

"Noted." Fury pursed his lips and looked at Hill for a moment before surveying the assembled Avengers again. "You three are a team. We got that, too. So from here on out, you'll be treated like a team. We'll get paperwork put through to get you on payroll, Loki. You'll share Miss Engman's consultant status. Captain, you'll work with them and run covert ops."

Loki spared a glance for his two 'teammates' and found calm consideration from Steve and confused blinking from Eleanore. "If you insist," he conceded, pulling his expression into cold indifference. He was no SHIELD soldier, and he would not follow their orders into every battle. If _trust_ was defined that way, he would go where Steve and Eleanore went. They would scrutinize each mission, he was certain, looking for the difference between right and wrong. Conflict was sure to arise there, for SHIELD was not the beneficent organization they claimed to be. Fury himself was comfortable with the ambiguity of horrendous means being pardoned by the ends he wished to see carried out. Justice at SHIELD was vague.

"He gets the same contract I did, then," Eleanore demanded, her own inner monologue written clearly over her features. Caution, calculation, racing thoughts. "And I'll have the lawyer look it over again."

So she didn't trust SHIELD either. Interesting. Loki wondered if Lydia or experience had taught her that.

"We'll do our best," Steve promised for all of them.

"You're on probation for the time being," Hill said, taking over and pulling up videos on her tablet. "Now, take us through the mission step by step."

From there, the reporting was a cut-and-dried model of rescuing Rogers just days before. Loki shared the entirety of Tiryaki's message, although he kept some analyses of the foreign magic to himself. He needed time to mull them over. Eleanore and Steve gave him that, cutting in with their own memories of the battle and their observations of the robots. Loki hadn't gotten a good look at them before, so he listened with interest as they described non-centralized circuitry and semi-intelligent actions the metal monsters took to avoid destruction.

"Magic again?" Hill asked, looking to Loki for an answer.

"Yes." Loki leaned forward with one arm on the table as he thought. "Mortal technology combined with seidr. The robots were working out a specific purpose, not associated with magic, but their appearance and avoidance suggests a sentient will controlling them." And the magic itself was _incredibly_ powerful; thrown around without consideration like a novice had gotten hold of Gungnir. What on Midgard could generate that kind of energy? Was the sorcerer channeling power from a machine like the one in Stark's chest? Several of those would…

 _The scepter._ Where was it? What had these foolish mortals done with it? Had they lost it already, or was Fury backing someone who could test Loki's metal? Was this part of a scheme to kill him, or simply a contingency plan in case his captors' control failed? They could already track him now, if he activated his magic carelessly. Loki mentally cursed this realm and his clueless 'teammates' who could do nothing to keep SHIELD or anyone else from experimenting with powers beyond their purview. He reviewed the idea that Eleanore and the Captain were part of the conspiracy and quickly discarded it. They would not last under a secret of that magnitude, and Heimdall was watching them.

"Did the drones pick anything up during the fight?" Eleanore was asking when Loki returned his attention to the conversation.

"Besides you guys?" Hill asked sarcastically. "We're still running the data. Nothing reported yet."

 _Nothing you_ wish _to report,_ Loki supplied. "I find myself curious as to how a being powerful enough to cause such destruction has escaped SHIELD's notice."

"We've been looking through the logs of every incident involving energy manipulation, robots, weird circumstances… Nothing matches this, or even correlates." Agent Hill would be a much more trustworthy co-conspirator for Fury, of course. Like Barton and Romanov, she betrayed very little. Professional, focused, deadly. Any number of thoughts could be sparking behind those dark eyes.

"Maybe a failed experiment?" Eleanore, on the other hand, was fairly transparent. And right now, she was thoughtful. "Like Bruce? Is anyone testing new artifacts?"

"As far as we know, the scepter is now the only 'artifact' on Earth." Fury knit his brow and considered her.

"Has it been acting weird? Unstable?" Loki let Eleanore ask after the scepter. She was less likely to raise suspicions about ulterior motives, and therefore more likely to get an answer.

"That's above your level as a consultant," Fury informed her. "Especially since your partner mind-controlled people with it."

"Well, if you're not going to tell us things like that, then we're not going to be able to help figure this out." Eleanore was frustrated and clearly very tired. The battle's high had worn off half an hour before, and now she was blinking hard over dry eyes, shaking her knee, tapping her foot on the floor to stay awake.

Loki felt similarly drained. All the sleepless nights, the excessive magic of this day, the tension that came with protecting the mortals, and the dread when he'd thought them destroyed had worn him down to the point that standing straight was an effort. The hour was wearing toward dawn, with no end to this questioning in sight.

"We're protecting Earth's interests," Fury responded to Eleanore's challenge with a glare. "SHIELD isn't just going to drop everything at the feet of the guy who blew up New York."

"We have to worry about this magic user," Steve pointed out, staring at his hands where they rested on the table. "And you're going to need Loki to help you find them."

"We'll cross that bridge when we have something to go on," Hill stated flatly. "For now, we have to decide exactly what to do with you three."

 _Throw us in a quiet cell with beds_ , Loki's sarcastic thoughts suggested. _Anything to escape this torment._

Fury and Hill shared a look. Fury walked over to the window and clasped his hands behind his back, ostensibly contemplating.

Loki knew a bluff when he saw it. The leader of SHIELD was attempting a mind-game, leaving the trio in trouble time to process every unfavorable possibility. At this point, they were just waiting for dismissal or further questioning.

Steve and Eleanore exchanged glances of their own, looking jaded with this process as well. Eleanore met Loki's eyes and quirked her mouth and eyebrows in a facial shrug as if to say, " _This is annoying, but we have no choice._ _"_ Loki let one brow raise in response. _You are far too relaxed and expressive, foolish mortal._

"We'll give you another week," Fury decided aloud, turning to stare them down again.

Loki forced himself to meet the one-eyed gaze respectfully. _One more week, and_ _…?_

"A week for what?" Steve and Eleanore asked at the same time.

"To get your shit together," Fury replied. "If you're going to work with SHIELD, you have to follow protocol. All three of you." A special glare reserved for Loki. "You'll be trained in the field with senior agents. Follow commands, stick to objectives."

 _That sounds very much like breaking a horse to ride,_ Loki thought to himself. _Of course Fury wants puppets. Does he calculate for individual will?_

"Then what?" Eleanore asked, stifling a yawn.

"Then SHIELD will re-evaluate your progress." Fury crossed his arms again. "But for now, you're dismissed. Hill will call you in with orders."

"Yes, Sir." Steve stood first, and Loki and Eleanore followed without the enthusiasm.

"Go home," Fury ordered them. "I don't want to see you back here until then."

They filed out of the bright room into the dim hallway, then took the elevator to the parking garage to let the automated car drive them home. It was three o'clock in the morning, and the city was quiet and dark. The drive was short, and the vehicle deposited them in the parking lot before returning to its masters. Steve held the door open and followed Eleanore and Loki up the stairs in weary silence. When they got to the hallway, he departed to his own rooms with a nod and a friendly half-grin. "Get some rest," he ordered around the closing door.

"Shower?" Eleanore asked Loki as she unlocked her door. "Want to go first?"

"You may have the honor." Loki wanted a little time alone to think through the events of the day. He was also hungry, and he eyed the sliced loaf of bread next to the warming box as Eleanore ventured into her bedroom and emerged with clothes.

"I'll be qu—," she said, the sound blanket cutting her off as she closed the bathroom door.

Charlie wound around Loki's ankles as he pulled a plate from the cupboard and took a few slices of bread in the light that filtered through the window coverings. "Nothing for you here," Loki informed the begging cat, who meowed pitifully in response. The dragon retreated into Eleanore's room and _thumped_ onto her bed.

The bread was good, if a bit stale. It had grains and seeds suffused through the dough, which were pleasantly crunchy and reminiscent of similar loaves on Asgard. Loki had two more slices before he felt reasonably satisfied. He also drank several glasses of water, leaning his hip against the island, wondering whether Rogers would be averse to using the frozen pasta in a meal sometime in the next few days.

 _There will be more pressing matters than that_. This magic user was a threat. With such power, they could kill Eleanore and the Captain as they were now with no trouble. If SHIELD was responsible for the budding sorcerer, then the mortals were likely safe, but Loki did not have sufficient evidence to verify that claim. And if SHIELD were not implicated, then what did this magic user want? Rogers? Loki thought Steve had likely been a prize claimed by chance; something valuable fallen into Tiryaki's hands. Clearly, they also thought Loki was valuable, and now they knew where his loyalties, such as they were, lay. If he was the target, the mortals could die by association. Loki needed to cast shielding spells over them either way.

Damn their carelessness.

They _were_ careless. Foolhardy, too trusting, overconfident. Very like Thor, Loki thought, except for their obvious differences in the use of logic and planning. The mortals had the advantage there. They'd very nearly died, though, as a result of misplaced trust in Loki, and in each other. Eleanore would have been dead, had the dragon not intervened. Steve was lucky. The entire situation was ridiculous, which was becoming the norm on this planet.

And yet, they'd followed him without question. Or rather, with rational questions. As Hill had pointed out, Steve and Eleanore had trusted Loki with a potentially deadly situation, and they'd defended him with their lives. And his plan had _worked_. Always before, Loki had been doubted, questioned, second-guessed and deposed from thoughtful leadership the moment Thor or Odin deemed themselves more capable. Thor, especially, always made sure Loki knew who was the elder, who would be the leader for all time. Not so here, at least not with these two mortals.

"There you go," Eleanore announced, emerging into perception with strong smells of soap and copious amounts of steam. She was wearing her sleeping clothes and the scratch across her face was covered in ointment. Her now-uncovered limbs showcased several purple bruises. One on her left forearm was in the shape of a robot hand and another spanned the outside length of her right shin. Loki wondered how many hours it would take to replenish her sorely depleted energy reserves, and how long she would take to heal. All he needed, he knew, was half a night before he'd be in perfect fighting condition again. Longer bouts of rest, though, would make him stronger. Eleanore looked at the empty plate on the counter and the glass in Loki's hand. "I'll set my alarm for four hours from now, okay? Then our sleep schedules won't be too thrown off."

"As you wish." That would be plenty of time for him to rest. But for now… "Darren has no protection cast over you."

"No, he doesn't." Eleanore blinked up at him in confusion. "He tried after the New York thing, but he's not very good at stuff like that. I just use the suit."

"And if that is no longer sufficient?" Loki asked.

"I'm too tired for analytical thinking. Are you saying I need protection spells?"

"Yes." Loki nodded seriously and held out a magic-covered hand. "At least to ward off unfriendly powers."

"Like the whoever-it-is? Okay." Eleanore reached out to the light, pausing when Loki pulled back. "What? Is that not how this works?"

"It is not. Hold still." Loki let the magic flow from him as energy, reforming as it met Eleanore's essence to bind itself securely. It would disregard her own brand of power entirely. Then he closed his eyes and gave intent to the magic so it would rebuff unwelcome interference from anyone except Loki and Darren and the dragon. The other magic would disperse harmlessly to avoid proximal casualties.

"What are you doing?" Eleanore inquired.

"Concentrating," Loki answered, finishing the binding and letting the spell feed off his energy until it was complete. He opened his eyes to Eleanore's biting-back-questions look. "Go on. Ask."

"So am I bulletproof now? Can I still touch people? How do I activate the… spell? Can SHIELD track me now, through this?" She stopped herself again, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"You are _not_ bulletproof." Loki began with the most important, dangerous question. "I will let your suit take care of physical threats for the time being. I included Darren's magic in this working so you can still embrace over-much, as you tend to do. You do nothing to activate the _working_ ; it shields you from others' magic. SHIELD can already track you, I believe. This should make no difference."

"So I'm not glowing or anything? How would I— Sorry," she held up her hands. "I'll go to bed. Can I ask more about this in the… later morning?"

"Perhaps." Loki walked around her to the bathroom with a smirk. "I suspect you will, with or without my permission."

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight."

Loki shut the door to blessed silence. Truthfully, he did not mind answering questions about magic, not when the questioners were Steve or Eleanore or even Darren and Doctor Banner. They were interested, enthusiastic, and Loki had learned they could follow along fairly well. No glazed-over eyes after the first few words, no interruptions. They accepted what he said as well, which was a refreshing novelty. Tony Stark was the exception, the doubtful fool. Loki hated being distrusted on a subject he _knew_. He also couldn't fathom how Darren had gone years living with the man without tossing him out a window himself.

At any rate, that was far away from the still-steamy bathroom. Loki undressed and stepped under the warming spray, working quickly so he could get out and into bed. The soap he used was woodsy, masculine, and refreshing. His short hair was simple to wash, and Loki was done in short order. He brushed his teeth thoroughly and eyed the 'mouthwash' that Eleanore also used before discarding the idea. Wrapped his towel around his waist and walked to his room instead of drawing SHIELD's observation by summoning clothing. He hung the towel on the set of hooks on the closet door, donned gray 'sweat pants', and pulled a thin, white t-shirt over his head and turned to the welcome resting place he had to call his own on this realm.

Finally. Finally, he could sink into this bed, into the now-familiar, supportive pillows and the flower-scented sheets. He was clean and exhausted, and the apartment was quiet. Loki didn't even bother to erect a sound barrier, knowing Eleanore would likely sleep an equal or greater amount of time. He just fell into bed and let sleep descend in a welcome, sense-dulling fog.

He woke. Still tired and groggy, but he could smell coffee coming from the kitchen. He also felt oddly satisfied. Successful. He had orchestrated that mission, and Steve and Eleanore had willingly followed him. The debriefing was over, and it looked like a perfect, cloudy day for lounging around and reading, events permitting. Loki dressed himself in black Midgardian slacks and a white button-down shirt that made him feel light and respectable.

Eleanore was sipping coffee at the island, still in her sleeping clothes, reading something on her cell phone's tiny screen when Loki emerged from his bedroom.

"Good morning," he greeted her, almost cheerful.

She gave him the normal half-awake grin that accompanied her ascent into awareness. "Well, you're in a good mood."

"I am simply thankful for a night of rest," Loki informed her airily, taking his green mug from the cupboard. He filled it with water and put it in the warming box, leaning against the counter to watch it turn. "Are we not missing a dragon?"

"He's sleeping on the roof," Eleanore explained. "He likes to be outside."

Steve came in then, looking serious. Troubled.

"What's wrong?" Eleanore asked, characteristically.

The Captain himself turned and glared at Loki. "Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

Loki froze in place as cold dread spread through his veins in response to the accusing tone. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're a monster." Steve drew himself up and walked closer, jabbing a finger at Loki's chest, not quite touching him. "You ice-blooded bastard! You tried to trick us."

Loki's initial reaction, along with shock, was anger. How could they know? How _dare_ they thank him like this. "Step away, Rogers."

"You're a Frost Giant?" Eleanore understood, finally, the being she'd housed. Fought alongside. Laughed with. Learned from. "What the hell? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Stay back, Elle." Steve did retreat, using his body as a shield and watching Loki all the while.

Loki tried to control himself, but he felt his vision growing redder with each passing second. "So now you understand. There was never any hope, and _you_ forced me here. You kept a beast chained. Tried to befriend it." _It couldn_ _'t last,_ his vulnerable heart despaired. He forced every crippling emotion back, leaving pure, building rage. Things were again as they should be. He was alone.

"How could you lie to me like that?" Eleanore asked, naive and foolish as usual.

"How could I not?" Loki challenged, calling his magic to heel. "My very existence is a lie. Surely you see that this is natural. And you, you deranged _child_! You sought to tame something beyond your ken."

"You met my _mom_ , you son of a bitch!" Anger, ugly and bare, stained her gaze. Directed at him for the first time since Loki had met her. "Were you going to freeze her on a visit? You don't belong here!"

He reacted without meaning to. A glowing hand brought her speech to a halt. She clutched her throat, no sound escaping the choking force.

 _What am I doing?_ Loki told himself to stop. Pulled back with his will, but his body was no longer his own. He was detached, watching himself from the living room. He didn't feel any rage anymore, only confusion and horror as Eleanore's lips turned blue and the Captain charged across the floor toward Loki's body with a roar.

 _Stop!_ Loki tried to shout. Too late. His body was ready, slipping a knife into the noble hero's heart as simply as breathing. Rogers and Eleanore sank to the floor at the same time, life fading from their eyes.

 _No, no, no,_ Loki's mind raced along, willing his red-rimmed vision to fade and reveal just another macabre fantasy.

He was standing in his body again, and it was responding. But the dead Avengers still littered the ground. Blood and pale skin and utter betrayal. He'd done this. He had killed them. His hands, when he raised them, were turning blue, and he accepted it. Natural. Monsters could never hide for long.

" _Wake up._ " A voice came from everywhere at once, but Loki could not identify it. _"Loki, listen to me. Wake up and don't hit me, okay?"_

"Eleanore?" But she was dead, right there in the kitchen entryway.

And her voice was getting clearer. "Jesus, Loki, breathe. You're not breathing. It's a nightmare, you have to wake up. I'm going to turn on the light. Can you hear me?"

Red light flared into existence, and then Loki's lungs expanded and he opened his eyes. To his bedroom. Dawn's twilight outside the windows. Eleanore's sleepy, hair-clouded, scratched, _alive_ face. Charlie's tail waiving as he walked along the bed.

"It's okay, it's okay," Eleanore was repeating in a soothing-voiced mantra. "Just a bad dream. Deep breaths." And Loki could tell she was real, because her hand was on his shoulder still, warm, and very _there_. The illusions conjured by the Other had never been physical. He had learned to dispel some of the weaker ones by reaching for the people in them.

Loki was suddenly aware that he was still lying flat on his back. His muscles were stiff, tense… sore. He was wound tight as a string on Eleanore's strumming instrument. He sat up, relishing the control he could exert over his limbs. His magic was dormant, and Loki had never felt further from anger. Closer to relief.

Eleanore was still close, although she removed her hand from his shoulder. "Are you okay?" The situation was now awkward. Or should be.

Loki couldn't bring himself to care. Hearing her voice made her more real. "My apologies," he rasped over a dry throat. His eyes found the bedside clock. Seven thirty. Charlie jumped onto the mattress and walked straight onto Loki's lap, purring.

"Must have been a bad one," Eleanore commented. She stepped back, offering him space.

Loki looked at her, taking in the healthy features and the lack of horror in her gaze. "Something of that caliber." Eleanore must have felt his emotions through her own slumber. Disconcerting. Loki didn't know exactly how to make a barrier for that. Here she was, characteristically concerned and overly-familiar. She had no idea he'd killed them in his dream. Had no notion of how real that had seemed.

And she was watching him still. Hovering, really. Loki took a moment to examine them and compare… This was different. Reality had boundaries that Loki got to set. Eleanore and Steve weren't naturally accusing people, nor were they suspicious of him. He wouldn't kill the two mortals now, and especially not so violently. Not only would the curses prevent it, but Loki didn't think he wanted to kill anyone for a while. And if he did, he would be in control of that. Those he ended would deserve it.

"Do you remember this one?" she asked next. Obnoxious, inquisitive woman.

"Do you make a habit of spying in your sleep?" Loki had to distance himself, and rude sarcasm was the best way to do it.

"No," she answered, nonchalant. "Stronger emotions kind of exert themselves. I can't help feeling them when I'm asleep."

"And barging in is the best way to wake a dangerous being." He wasn't angry, and he wouldn't be _getting_ angry for a while, to avoid the obvious dangers. He could provoke Eleanore, though. For entertainment.

"Dangerous being." She smiled instead of getting offended. What a contrary person. "Look, it was sort of a reactionary situation. Sorry for invading your space."

Loki frowned at her. "Feel free to leave at any time."

"Okay." She didn't leave, though, placing one hand on her hip and taking a breath. "Steve didn't go to bed— shocker, I know. He's at SHIELD already, watching the doctors work on Tiryaki. He texted when he left, which was about an hour ago. I'll call him and see what the progress is. Do you want to go check it out in a while?"

He digested the information and the inquiry. "I would know of the magician. Is there any word on that?"

"Not yet. Tony, Darren, and Bruce should be there too, so we can analyze the battle last night. Maybe you can dig something up from the data?"

"Perhaps. I will join you shortly. If you please." He nodded over his shoulder to the door.

"Tea?" Eleanore asked as she complied with the silent demand. "Or we could stop for coffee and breakfast on the way. There isn't much here that isn't spoiled."

They had been gone a few days. "I have no preference." He did have a preference: he was hungry and tea sounded amazing. However, he wouldn't make requests at this point because he could very easily go without food.

"I'll call the others quick. We can decide once you get dressed." She left then, closing the door behind her.

Loki was left with an affectionate, wriggling cat who demanded stomach rubs. He complied for a moment, thinking through the strangely visceral, life-like dream. Had it been a premonition? Those were known in legends, but widely discarded as myth on Asgard. There was no way Loki would ever end these two mortals in such a way, spell or not. He had more control of himself than that… Surely.

The other option, equally repulsive but infinitely more likely, was the Other feeding fear into his mind and latching onto any new connections. But was it a punishment or a warning? How much control did the Other still have, and how long would it last? The focus on rage must be connected to Loki's state of mind when they'd found him floating helpless in the Void. Yes, he'd been angry then, and hurting and pitiful. That was no longer who he intended to be. So, then, rage was the determinant factor that made him most vulnerable to influence. Not so far from normal, then, for strong emotions made everyone unreasonable. Loki would just have to avoid anger and control himself when he was in the presence of others. Now that he knew Eleanore and Steve were not personally responsible for his imprisonment, he no longer felt the same burning hatred toward them. A step in the right direction already. As for other mortals, they did not matter and were beneath him. Simple enough to brush off the opinions of annoying insects such as Tony Stark and Nicholas Fury.

The Other had performed similar acts while Loki was under his control, twisting memories and readily-available despair into a heady concoction that had drawn varying reactions. Then, as now, Loki remembered every detail of the dream. Then, as now, he'd sorted through them when his mind was once more his own. The only difference was the appearance of new faces, which the Other could have easily dredged up from his mind, along with the dread of losing them that Tiryaki's explosion had provoked.

And that fear was disconcerting in itself. His time on this miserable planet could be measured in _days_ and here he was forming connections, sympathizing, and now growing attached. Loki was not fool enough to lie to himself; the panic he'd felt when he thought the Captain and Eleanore were caught in the blast had stemmed more from concern for them than from thoughts of his own execution. Why else would he have worried what Lydia thought about it? And he was calling them by their given names, and accepting the claim of an Avenger, and enjoying shared victory. The mortals formed bonds that easily, but Loki did _not._

 _They are giving you what you have always wanted_ , his mind explained. _Equality. Trust. Friendship._

" _I never wanted the throne! I only wanted to be your equal."_

Was he really so simply satisfied? Was this the real Loki, who'd survived the Void, torture, mind control, defeat? Valhalla above, he was _weak_. A child given the taste of sweetness, following a sprite into a bog. He would drown this way.

 _They trust you as well._ Of course they did. That was the most perplexing factor. Of course, Loki wanted their trust: it made them drop their guard so he could do as he pleased. Trust would let him escape their clutches. But before, he'd wanted to escape and kill them. Now he wanted out, and… then what? He did not know himself well enough to predict his actions from there.

For one thing, the thread of the Scepter still tied Loki to that asteroid, and it could not be undone. It would wear away in time, he thought, but there was no way he could detect something so intrinsically bound to himself; he could only measure its effects. Darren sprang to mind, but if the effort backfired, the boy could be killed or stuck in the same predicament. Besides, Loki would not be caught asking a Stark for help, old or young. If the symptoms persisted, he would deal with them himself. Somehow. That decided, Loki ran his hand through the cat's soft fur a few more times before rousing himself and placing Charlie on the bed to stretch out. He pulled Asgardian clothing on to distance himself from the nightmare as much as possible, straightened his hair in the mirror, and walked into the main room. Found Eleanore, now dressed in jeans and a golden-yellow patterned shirt whose sleeves hid the worst of her bruises, dropping a tea bag into a metal container full of steaming water.

"Travel mug," she explained, handing it over. "It'll keep the tea hot for hours."

Loki took the container and added the usual amount of sugar, accepting the lid when she held it out. "Thank you."

She leaned against the counter on the palms of her hands. "Steve says Tiryaki still hasn't woken up. Do you want to stop for breakfast on the way in?"

"If you prefer." Loki looked down at her neck, where another mark showed underneath her collar. "Can you not heal yourself of such trivial ailments?" He took a tentative sip of his drink and found it far too warm.

"No, my powers don't work on me. I'm fine, though. It's just bruises."

Loki thought back on the healing training he'd received from Eir herself, which could in no way compare to what Eleanore could do. "What if the injury were more serious?"

"Then you should take me to a hospital or something," Eleanore said, as though that were obvious.

Jet emerged from her bedroom then and sidled up to her. Loki could barely feel the pulse of hidden potential as the dragon skirted by him and sniffed Eleanore's leg. She would be reasonably safe with such a companion. Still, the risk was great if she were badly wounded in a remote place with only the Avengers to help.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked, contemplating the hanging paper calendar that was displayed above the warming box. It had a picture of a mountainscape in springtime, and the month read _May_.

"Ready as I ever will be." Loki found the day he'd arrived on Midgard easily, and tracked his progress in the weeks afterward. So few squares had passed, but it felt like a strange eternity in some ways.

"Okay." Eleanore walked over to her room and retrieved her suit backpack from behind the door, along with a little bag from which she withdrew her keys. "Are you tired of eggs yet? Anything sound good to eat?"

"Anything, as you say, sounds better than nothing." Loki held the door open as she followed him into the hall.

"I could use some strong coffee," she told him as they descended the stairs. "We could try Car— Hi Mrs. Hirsch."

An old woman looked up at them from the first floor's landing. Loki remembered that name from the night of the power failure. "Eleanore. Didn't know you had a guest." She was very close to hostile, with a good deal of distrust behind her wavering voice.

Loki took his cue from Eleanore and acted courteous, sliding the mask into place. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you, my lady."

"This is Loki." Eleanore walked down the rest of the steps to stand at the woman's level. Loki followed her, giving the old woman plenty of distance. "Loki, this is Mrs. Hirsch. She owns the building." Loki nodded politely while Eleanore set about explaining his presence. "He's staying with me for a while. Actually, I've been meaning to ask about a roommate agreement. Sorry I haven't got around to it."

"Rent's the same," Mrs. Hirsch said. "There's an extra month's deposit for two people, though."

Loki didn't miss the tightening around Eleanore's eyes, though her smile remained in place. "Sure. Can we get that to you next week?"

"Yeah." Mrs. Hirsch seemed to relax a little as she talked to Eleanore. Her gaze was steel again when she looked at Loki. "May I speak to Miss Engman alone?"

"Here," Eleanore gave him the car keys before he could answer. "I'll meet you out there?"

"Of course." Loki would stay near the building to hear what they discussed. He turned a bright grin on the coldly formal old woman. "A pleasure, I'm sure." He walked out the door and listened through the hiss of the closing mechanism, leaning against the walkway railing, out of sight.

"You bring in a lot of strays," Mrs. Hirsch said, sounding much warmer. "If you're having trouble paying rent, I've told you to let me know."

"It's not that," Eleanore said. "I do have a job. Payday's Friday. I'm doing fine."

"Then why do you need a roommate?" Mrs. Hirsch prodded. "I don't like the look of that one. Does your mother know about him?"

Loki grinned at that. Would this woman presume to protect Eleanore from his influence?

"They're friends," Eleanore assured her. "Mom actually gets along with him really well. He's just new to DC, so he's staying for a while to get acclimated. He's a good man."

 _Liar_ , Loki thought. _How is an Avenger so comfortable with untruths?_ But Romanov was an Avenger as well, and she was a much better deceiver.

"I can tell you believe that, but you watch yourself," Mrs. Hirsch said. "You're young. Don't waste your life trying to help someone who can't be bothered to change."

Eleanore did not reply to that for a long moment. Loki wished he could see her face, so he could read the trail of her thoughts. Finally, she sighed and spoke. "He doesn't need to change. He just needs a place to stay. I'll get the deposit to you by the end of next week, okay?"

"And stop up for tea this week," Mrs. Hirsch ordered. "I never see you anymore."

"Okay, I will. Promise. Have a good day." Eleanore and the dragon exited the door seconds later. She raised an eyebrow at Loki. "Hear all that?"

"I would never dream of eavesdropping," Loki joked. "Surely a man of my high moral standing—"

"Okay, I get it." Eleanore laughed and held out her hand. "Keys, please." Loki gave them to her and they walked over to the car. "At least you don't have to fight Steve for shotgun today."

"Small blessings," Loki said, quoting a sign he'd seen somewhere in Lydia's building of residence. He pulled the fabric belt across his chest and clicked it into place. Regarded Eleanore as she started the engine and carefully backed out from between two other vehicles. "What is your goal?"

"What, like, life-wise?" she asked, still distracted by the cars parked behind her.

"With me. What is your goal?" It was a worthy question, and one Loki had wondered for a while.

"Oh." She put the car into 'gear' and pulled forward to the street. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" He narrowed his eyes at her. She was telling the truth. "What do I need to do, then, for you to set me free?"

"It's not about actions or heroism. I should have told you that a long time ago, I guess." She glanced over at him, then navigated a turn in the road. "You're recovering here. That's the goal, if you want one to focus on."

"Recovering. From mind control." Loki sat back as she nodded, watching the buildings pass them by. Lydia had mentioned vagaries from Eleanore before. Now Loki saw what she'd meant. "How will you know when to let me go?"

Eleanore shrugged and made a noise, "munuh," which Loki took to mean " _I don_ _'t know_ " again. "I think we're a long way from that, honestly. But I'm not trying to keep you here longer than necessary."

"I should hope not, for your sake." The dream reared up again, forcing images of death behind his eyes, twisting his stomach. Loki retreated into his mind in silence to push them back, controlling his emotions so she would suspect nothing.

Eleanore left him alone as she drove. They passed imposing structures as they drew closer to their ultimate destination. The Triskelion loomed across the bridge when Eleanore pulled the car sideways into a narrow spot. "Are you feeling particularly oppressed today?" she asked lightly.

Loki could smell coffee and baked goods as he opened the door and disembarked. "No more than usual."

She smiled at that, taking it for the passive jest it was. "What kind of pastries do you like?"

He followed her into the dark store that was responsible for the scents on the breeze. "That answer varies. What is best here?"

"I like pretty much everything with sugar in it," Eleanore told him, walking over to a display case. "I could get something, and you could get something, and we could share them to try something new?"

Loki wrinkled his nose at the 'breakfast sandwich' display. "Your kind has an obsession with creating unnecessary sandwich combinations."

"I don't like them either," Eleanore confided. She got in line behind several other people, and Loki took the place behind her. "I think I'll get a scone today."

Loki looked over the display again, noting a nut-covered circle. "What is a croissant?"

"It's flaky pastry crust, and the chocolate ones have chocolate inside. Obviously." Eleanore nodded up to the displayed words overhead. "There's also oatmeal here, which you've had. And non-breakfast sandwiches."

"This constitutes a meal?" Loki asked skeptically. The pastries could be a very light dessert on Asgard, where breakfast was an event in itself, usually served in his private chambers by servants and consisting of three courses.

"We can get something somewhere else if you want. There are vendors outside," Eleanore said. "I'll just get my coffee quick and we can go look around. Hi," she greeted the server cheerily. "I'll take a medium turtle, white chocolate, no whip, extra shot of espresso."

"Got it," the young man said. "Order number 357." He handed over a slip of paper with the number on it, and Eleanore paid with the swipe of a plastic card.

Loki wondered how money worked on this realm. 'Payday' meant very little to him, as he had always had an account directly tied to the royal coffers. Eleanore had blanched at the mention of another deposit, whatever that was, and he assumed it cost more than she was willing to pay. He was on SHIELD's 'payroll' now; what would he do with that money? Probably help with expenses for the apartment, first of all. Eleanore was his handler, but he wouldn't be relying on charity from anyone. He walked over to the open waiting area with Eleanore and formulated the question for minimum offense. "How do you handle money here?"

"Oh, mostly in banks," she replied. "That card I just put away is connected to my account, so it withdraws the right amount of money when I use it. We can get you one of those, if you want, when you get paid."

That wasn't really the answer he was looking for, though it was informative. "What sort of expenses do you incur?" he asked next.

"Rent, electric bills, clothes, food, gas for the car, car insurance…" Eleanore trailed off from her automatic listing and looked up at him suspiciously. "Why?"

Loki decided to be direct. "You flinched at the mention of another deposit."

"That'll be fine," she said too quickly. "I just hadn't factored it into my budget. I haven't _done_ a budget for my current situation either. I'll figure it out."

Her number was called then, so Loki didn't respond. He would need to learn about currency if he was to navigate independently on this realm at all. But one thing at a time.

Vendors turned out to be amateur food servers who operated out of carts on the walkway. Some had sun shades, some had flair for their craft, all advertised with large lettering and simple words. _Hot Dogs, Gyros, Fresh Pizza, Nachos._

"The pastries would have been more familiar," Loki remarked to Eleanore, who was sipping her coffee beside him.

"Less of an adventure, though," she quipped. "You like meat, right, and vegetables? You might like a gyro."

She pronounced it "yee-row". Loki filed that away for future reference. He also accompanied her to the cart.

"Lamb or beef?" the vendor asked brusquely. He was large, nearly as tall as Loki and over twice as wide. He also had an accent, although he spoke the native tongue of this country.

"Lamb," Eleanore said firmly. "Is that baklava?"

"The lady has an eye for quality," the vendor told Loki conspiratorially.

"That is highly debatable," Loki replied seriously.

Of course, Eleanore chuckled at that. "I'll take a small box of baklava, too, please." She took the strange wrap handed to her in a paper plate, and the small box. "Here."

Loki took the proffered dish and picked at the wrapped breading with the tips of his fingers as he followed Eleanore to a bench and sat down. "I think 'lamb' was a generous description."

"It's street vendor food, not… I don't know. Anywhere fancy." She waved his disgust away and opened the box to reveal flaking pastries cut into eight diamonds. It smelled perfect. "Want some of this?"

"Yes." Loki wouldn't even pretend otherwise. He took a chunk of the stuff and tried it tentatively. It was delicious; almost an exact replica of a similar dessert on Asgard.

"Good?" Eleanore asked around her own piece.

"Your realm has come far in the past five hundred years," Loki said, taking another bite.

"Is there stuff like this? Where you're from?"

"Almost flake for flake," Loki confirmed. "But it is simply called 'nut pastry' if it is referred to at all. It originates on Alfheim. I've not tasted it in decades."

"If you like it so much, why didn't you eat it more?" Eleanore asked, looking at the now half-empty box.

Loki forced himself to slow down. Took a bite of the gyro. It was not unpleasant, though the juice that leaked from the ends was difficult to work around. "I suppose I forgot to ask after it. There was a great deal more to claim my attention in those days."

"Like what?" Eleanore inquired.

"Matters of court," Loki answered, thinking back. "Adventuring. I traveled a great deal, for a number of your years, much before you were even born."

"Where did you go, old man?"

"Everywhere but here," Loki grinned at the memories of his solo journeys. They had been peaceful, and few. When Loki was with Thor, the trips typically turned into quests for violence. When he was alone, he got to stop and learn what he could. "Once I met Inaki, of Nidavellir."

"Wow, what an honor," Eleanore said jokingly.

"You _would_ be humbled, if you knew who he was," Loki told her. "The greatest craftsman of the realm. His death marked the end of an era there."

"What did he—" Eleanore was cut off as her phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and swiped a finger across the screen before holding it to her ear. "Hello?"

" _Tiryaki_ _'s waking up_ ," Steve said, his voice thin and garbled in the device.

"We'll be right there." Eleanore took the baklava box with her into the car, and Loki threw the empty gyro container away before joining her.

The drive was short, just across the bridge, and they made it into the parking garage before five minutes had passed on the car's green-numbered clock. They went into the first floor's display room, which Eleanore called a 'lobby', and found an agent who escorted them down five floors to an observation room that contained a large window, several chairs, and the Avengers.

"Princess," Tony greeted Eleanore, "God of Ass-Kicking."

Loki felt his heart rate increase at the very sound of that grating voice. He got hold of himself, however, long before anger entered the equation. And he could tell the name was a half compliment. "Stark."

"Here." Darren skipped the greeting and handed Loki and Eleanore tablets before pulling Eleanore into an embrace. "We picked up some of the fight; are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Eleanore assured him. "But you're outmatched in the robot game right now."

"Unacceptable," Darren grinned, and they appeared to share some joke no one else understood.

Steve approached Loki and nodded toward the empty room on the other side of the glass. "They're going to bring him in here for questioning. We thought you might be able to… trace magic? They're still getting strange energy readings off him."

"Residual effects, I'm sure." Loki waved the concern away.

"You think he was controlled?" Barton asked from one dark corner.

"I think not," Loki replied. "He was working with someone, that much is certain, but I question whether he even knows their true identity. It seemed a relatively new alliance.

"Why do you say that?" Banner looked up from his own device, which displayed a single microbot's close-up image.

"He was unsure of himself," Loki answered. "Lady Eleanore can corroborate this, I believe."

"He was," she confirmed. "When he was talking about his 'affiliations' he was really vague, and he felt pretty nervous. More nervous than Loki made him, I mean." She took a long drink of her coffee and shrugged. "He wasn't mind-controlled, though. Maybe coerced the old-fashioned way?"

"We'll find out, I guess," Barton said as the door opened in the other room.

Tiryaki was led inside in chains, looking much better than he had mere hours before. Loki knew from experience that SHIELD preferred their prisoners healthy before interrogation.

"We have to be quiet," Darren murmured to everyone assembled. "No tablets lit up either, now. He can see the light through the window. And if we speak too loudly, he might see the glass vibrate, and he'll know we're here."

Loki could have sworn that last statement was directed straight to Tony. He hid a grin and turned to observe the proceedings, looking over Eleanore's head with Steve to his right and Banner to his left.

An unfamiliar agent slapped a file on the table in front of Tiryaki and spread out several pictures. A screen in the wall just above the window lit up with an above image taken from a camera in the corner of the interrogation room, angled to see what Tiryaki saw and to record his reactions. The images were from the hospital, taken when the human agents were allowed to enter and document the scene. Melted bodies, handprints on the glass doors. Meant to invoke a response.

Loki thought this was rather amateurish, and very obvious.

Tiryaki looked down at the pictures and back up to the agent. "I always love admiring my handiwork." His voice rasped painfully, but he sat up straight and held himself with a very put-upon air.

"Your handiwork took twenty-three lives." The agent was unamused, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at the terrorist. "Seven children lost a parent, nine men and women lost their spouse, and several doctors and nurses were just going about their day until your microbots chewed them up."

"You label me a terrorist. I believe this is average terrorist behavior." Tiryaki settled back in his chair and regarded the window calmly, as though he could see through it. "I also suspect you've brought my original victim in to watch me cower under the iron boot of SHIELD. Neither of you will receive satisfaction."

"Fine." The agent pulled out the other chair and took a seat. "We'll cut right to the chase. Who are you working with?"

"I told your pet alien last night: I don't discuss my affiliations with strangers."

"Give it time," the agent smiled. "I think you and I will be better acquainted than you want by the time this is all over."

"Torture?" Tiryaki almost purred. "A brave front from the noble American organization. What is _your_ body count? Eh?"

"Personally? Ten." The agent was cold and arrogant. Loki could tell it was an act, but he thought that the number might be the truth. "A nice, round number, don't you think?"

"A hired gun is no different than an inspired freedom fighter," Tiryaki said calmly. "Justification is personal."

Loki could agree with that, for the most part. He saw Eleanore and Darren nodding ever so slightly as they shared a glance.

"What are your intentions?" the agent asked blankly.

"The advancement of humanity," Tiryaki answered simply.

"Meaning?"

"We have to make people _think_. Everyone is so afraid of non-threats, don't you agree? Mutants— pah. Religions? Stupid. No, what they should really fear is what humans can do to each other. Our capabilities are expanding, and no one notices. Tony Stark no longer holds the trump card in weapons, and a dangerous world is responding. My work aims to remind humanity of the real threat: organized violence."

"I think the organizational part is lacking," Loki commented quietly.

"No shit," Barton replied. "Damn nutjob."

"Hush," Romanov said impatiently.

Tiryaki continued in that vein, looking more and more weary as an hour slipped away. He answered all questions with exhortations and dogma detailing his image of a perfect world. One where the common man banded together to kill the corrupt leaders and oppressors.

Loki examined him from time to time and only found the expected magical residue from a few hours before. It responded to Tiryaki's state of mind, rising with his voice and calming with his attention. It would fade gradually until the mortal man was mundane once more within a day or so.

"I think we have enough for now. Don't go anywhere." The agent left the room with a bored sigh.

Tiryaki remained still and quiet for a moment, looking down at his bound hands in contemplation. Then an unsettling, even to Loki, smile spread across his face and he slowly raised his head to gaze through the opaque glass.

"Caaaaptain!" he called softly. "Here I aaam! No revenge for me? Hm? Not for those I killed? Not for the _children_?"

Loki rolled his eyes. Amateurish and petty. This man craved attention in the most pitiful of ways. The fact that he reminded Loki of blue-tinged, maniacal moments had very little to do with his revulsion. Very little.

"You guys don't have to watch him now," Hill said, sticking her head through the door. "We've got other projects."

The Avengers filed out into the hallway and followed the slight woman to another meeting room on the same floor. Fury was there, again. Loki wondered when the man slept. He looked the same as ever: a perfect portrait of distrust and arrogance.

"How did you like that little show?" he asked as the 'heroes' and Loki took their places around the table.

"Tiryaki wants a reaction," Banner observed.

"And we thought Reindeer Games was crazy…" Tony mused, returning the glare Eleanore pointed at him. "Your thoughts, Princess?"

Loki looked to Steve instead, noting the tension around the other man's shoulders, the sleepless gaze. Alan was partially correct: when Steve put on the suit, he assumed a different, more confident air. Alan was also not familiar enough to realize that Steve Rogers was the main foundation of the Captain America personality. Loki wondered if one could exist without the other at this point.

Captain America looked over his team in turn and squared his shoulders resolutely. "What can we do to help?"

"Glad you asked." Fury pulled up a holographic chart displaying different locations around the city. "These are Tiryaki's confirmed stops since he got to DC. We recorded a call he made, which said he was going to connect with a buyer here." Fury pointed to a large group of buildings, storage facilities, and an image of Tiryaki in a car popped up. "We watched him sit there for an hour, and then he just drove away. No one else showed up there for hours, and then it was homeless people. The next day, Tiryaki staged the attack on the hospital." The Director laid a challenging eye across the room, coming to rest lastly on Loki. "Thoughts?"

"No more calls to that buyer?" Barton asked.

"He threw his burner away and got a new one. So far as we know, no more calls to anyone."

"How did he recruit the mule?" Romanov asked.

"He slipped off our radar shortly after his new phone purchase," Fury explained. "Rationally, he had a few hours to give her the backpack and send her through the plan." He raised his hands and cocked his head. "There are a lot of holes here, I know. Tiryaki was good. We think the hospital attack wasn't his final play. Our interrogators will work on getting that information, but for now we need to find out who this buyer was, and where Tiryaki got the microbots."

"He wasn't manufacturing them in Turkey?" Darren asked.

"He didn't have anything close in that lab," Fury confirmed somberly.

"So we're looking at another player," Tony said. "Someone with _magic_ ," he put disbelieving emphasis on the word, "and a grudge against our little Stevie. Sound like anyone we know?"

Loki ignored the elder Stark's pointed glare and the implication of his guilt. Eleanore and Steve, to his right and left, rose to the challenge instead. But the rebuttal did not come from them.

"We're not starting this again, Dad." Darren was exasperated and weary, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at his father. "We've been arguing about this all night."

Loki was surprised at that. But then, why wouldn't Tony Stark suspect him? The man was blind to all but the equations he worked with. What was more shocking was Darren's automatic defense of someone he really barely knew. Loki supposed the difference between the father and son was the elder considered everyone an enemy until proven wrong, and the younger was more optimistic.

"And we've gotten nowhere," Tony pointed out, unaware of Loki's considerations. "Loki definitely _could_ have done all the magic we've seen so far."

"He was with us," Eleanore joined in flatly. "He helped _us_ , Tony." This defense made much more sense. Eleanore could not avoid getting involved in a disagreement.

Loki wasn't about to hide behind these mortals, no matter their intentions. Before Steve could speak, turning the argument into a real debate, he raised an eyebrow at Tony Stark and gave his most disdainful expression. "Alas, my schemes for escape are immaterial, as I've forgotten to remove the curses that bind me here." It burned to admit this vulnerability, but Stark and everyone else in the room needed to see just how impossible it was for Loki to have orchestrated such a battle. He fingered the bracelet, contempt rising in his chest as he returned the foolish inventor's glower in turn.

"That's enough," Steve said firmly, bringing the discussion to a halt. "We're not getting anywhere this way. Who has suspects?"

"Still nothing on SHIELD's radar," Romanov said.

"We've seen nothing like this magic before," Barton added.

"Mortals likely haven't," Loki agreed readily. "But, judging from the mutants cropping up, you're seeing many things that are unfamiliar."

"You got that right," Banner muttered under his breath.

"In my opinion, your sorcerer augments their powers by outside means," Loki continued, warming up to the subject. Everyone was listening to him. This was an unfamiliar sensation once again. Usually in groups, Thor commanded attention and Loki was left to stay silent or whisper in the golden prince's ear. "Artifacts may be present on this world, left here from other civilizations. This would explain the extreme level of power, and the lack of control."

"Do you have any ideas for differentiating between your magic and the other guy's?" Banner asked.

Loki regarded him, preparing to think aloud. "I do not know enough of your technology to hazard a theory. However, I am willing to participate in the research."

"That's just what we need," Tony grumbled. "Main suspect inserting himself into the case."

"He's not a suspect at all," Eleanore said firmly, rolling her eyes. "Get a grip, Tony."

"I'm not the one hosting the alien Hitler!" Tony nearly shouted at her.

"That's enough from all of you," Fury barked suddenly. "Stark, Engman, neither of you are in charge here. So here's what's going to happen. Rogers, you work with Romanov and Barton to come up with leads on the magician. Cover all your sources, then cover them again. I want in-person verification on leads. Take a jet and report every six hours."

"Yes, sir." Barton led the way out of the room. Romanov followed silently like a cat. Steve glanced back worriedly, but he did not protest.

"Loki, you'll work with Banner and Darren to figure out the energy signature and whatever else you find to trace this suspect. Stark, you and Engman are on recruitment duty. Call every scientist you know, get everyone working on this problem. Look for indications of artifacts from past cases, and consult with historical experts."

Was Fury purposely splitting Loki apart from his handlers? Yes, almost certainly. This was a test to see how he handled himself without the immediate threat of an order hanging over his head. It was perfect, actually. Darren and Banner together were more than guard enough to stop him if he tried anything malicious, and if he didn't, then they might make scientific breakthroughs for all humankind. Loki felt like a chess piece, maneuvered into just the right place, waiting for the next move of the giant hand.

Would the other pieces play along? Banner and Darren seemed to have no problem with the orders. Darren was already typing something into his cell phone, brow creased in thought. Banner just stood unobtrusively, arms folded, as though making himself as small as possible would prevent the monster's control.

More interesting was the glance that passed between Tony Stark and Eleanore. Half-considering, half-angry on both sides.

"Truce, Princess?" Tony asked first, walking closer and holding out his hand.

Eleanore shook it, relaxing into a more companionable, if still aloof, attitude. "We can argue while we do our homework." She looked over and met Loki's eyes. A silent question: " _Are you alright with this?_ "

Loki answered that by moving toward Banner and Darren and initiating a conversation. "Have you any more instruments to test against magic energy?"

"There's a lab a few floors up." Hill spoke for the first time since entering the room, gesturing for the three men to follow her. "Fiftieth floor. Spectrometers on the roof, and we've got some scientists and engineers up there awaiting your orders for how to create drones."

"Good," Darren said, nodding excitedly, pausing his exit to kiss the top of Eleanore's head and squeeze her hand. Then he was at Loki's side again, walking into the elevator and chattering his thoughts into the air. "We could try modifying more spectrometers and testing them on spells. It'll go faster with more hands. Maybe the engineers will have ideas for lenses. Can we get a few programmers as well?" Hill nodded to this, and Darren continued, this time speaking to Loki. "Bruce and I have found consistencies between magical energy, thermodynamics, dark matter, and electromagnetics. It has some unique properties as well, but it's a start."

Loki just nodded along and stepped off the elevator onto the fiftieth floor. The entire place was covered with desks and a myriad of equipment. Late morning sunlight shone through the glass panels framed with steel, and several very young people in white coats paused a serious discussion to look over at the Avengers with awe.

Loki was aware that most of their awe was directed at Darren, and perhaps Banner. He was nobody to them at this point. He'd keep it that way for now, deferring to the mortal and half-mortal, learning inconspicuously.

Sure enough, all eyes skimmed past Loki and settled on the Stark and the Hulk's alter-ego. The scientists and engineers (Loki couldn't tell them apart) waited in a hush for a proclamation from their new leaders.

Darren and Bruce both looked uncomfortable with the unfamiliar attention.

Hill spoke first. "Everyone, this is Darren Stark, Dr. Bruce Banner, and Loki. You'll be under their direction until further notice. The goal of this project is to capture a wanted criminal who was instrumental in the hospital attack yesterday. You'll be provided with any necessary equipment until we've got results. Good luck." She left without looking back, brusque and businesslike.

"So… yeah." Darren scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. Loki knew a fear of public speaking when he saw it. Still, the group of strangers only numbered around five. "W-what we're looking at is a new form of energy. Magic."

Eyes widened. Lips parted in questions, which were quickly bit back into sharp intakes of breath. The group of white coats shifted uncomfortably. Loki saw more than one disbelieving expression, just as he'd seen the day before when he'd tried explaining the concept to Banner and Stark. Perhaps all Midgardian intellectuals were biased against the ethereal.

"We've got some data from yesterday to share with you," Bruce added quickly, walking over and pulling up a large-scale display of Loki and Darren performing spells under the different lenses. The little group grew much more interested. "As you can see," Banner continued, "we're dealing with immense amounts of energy here. The subject basically maxes out our sensors, whether they're electromagnetic, thermal, even dark matter sensors. Right now we want to learn about this energy, its properties, and design instruments to measure it specifically."

Loki accepted the reference to himself as "the subject". He speculated internally, wondering how he could explain magic's properties to this band of mortals. He didn't want to be clumsy, didn't want to face the base rejection he'd received the day before. It was more about keeping his temper under control than about humiliation. _Maybe if I list the properties of each type of energy I_ _'ve learned about… Or perhaps I can explain how I can manipulate those energies._ But he was at a loss for how to verbalize something so innate. Darren understood it as well, and he'd lived here for years. If he couldn't explain magic to his father or Banner, how was Loki going to?

The other Avengers were now speaking with the white coats, fielding questions while Loki thought. They were discussing the similarities between magic and other energies again. The coats were asking questions.

"Are we looking at a mutant here, or…?"

"So your current drones look for all kinds of energy through spectrometers?"

"What are we looking at? What was that supposed to be?"

This last was in regard to the display that showed Loki calling up multiple lights at once and dimming and brightening them, then passing them off to Darren. Bruce looked to Loki then, and he figured his time of silence was over.

"This is magic," he said over the babbling. He called lights up again and set them to Bruce's essence and his own. He held an orb above his hand and raised an eyebrow at the impressed-verging-on-fearful expressions from the students, as Loki now thought of them. "I am open to questions now."

"I don't know where to start," one blonde young woman said truthfully.

"Start with what you see," Tony's voice suggested from the doorway.

Loki rolled his eyes and turned to face the other two. Apparently he wouldn't be tested without his handler after all, for Eleanore was there as well. "I thought you were contacting others."

"We're here to get a list from Bruce." Tony skirted around Loki and held out a tablet. "We want energy experts. I'm the best energy expert I know, next to Jolly Green here."

"Lights again?" Eleanore asked, taking a place between Loki and Darren and holding out her hand for an orb. Loki summoned one above her palm and made it extra bright so she blinked and squinted and frowned. "Did you ever tell us how you get the energy for these things?"

It was Loki's turn to blink. That was a good question to start an explanation of energy manipulation. "There is energy all around us. I pull what I need into one place and call upon it with a purpose." _Like the protection spells placed upon you,_ he thought but refrained from saying.

"So… wait. Is the energy conscious?" one man asked. He was shorter than Darren, taller than Eleanore, with an arrogant air and a shock of red hair. His name tag simply read _John Jacobsen_.

Loki settled into discussion. " _I_ am conscious, and I assert my will on the energy."

"What energy, though? Are you born with this… power?" the honest woman, _Karen Bouldin_ , asked.

Loki considered that. Midgardians were mortal, but they no doubt had some very small capacity for magic. Loki hadn't heard of a sentient being in the Nine Realms who did not carry some magical energy. That brought up the question, a seldom-discussed philosophy on Asgard, regarding whether or not sentience could exist without magic, or whether magic could exist without sentience. This topic grew lofty very quickly, and so most of Loki's acquaintances avoided it in favor of simpler, more tangible things. Like beating each other to a pulp and discussing how they accomplished that. "There is a line of thinking that says all sentient beings have some capability for magic. Truly, magic is an exertion of will, and you mortals carry enough will to accomplish that." He avoided glancing meaningfully at Eleanore, reminding himself that her will was keeping him here instead of in a dungeon or an execution chamber.

"There has to be more than just will, though," a very short woman with straight black hair said decidedly. _Patricia Goering_. "If will were everything, we would have figured it out ourselves by now."

"Your race is very young," Loki said blandly.

"How old are you?" asked another woman with a heavier build and a pen poised above a notepad. _Analise Verena_.

Loki kept his face blank. "Over a thousand Midgardian years. I am Loki, the God of Mischief."

He could practically _hear_ Eleanore rolling her eyes beside him. "Very dramatic," she whispered, too low for the others to hear.

 _Very accurate,_ he thought in response. But his eyes were trained on the shocked reactions of the scientists. They were most entertaining, and much the same as the reactions to the lights.

The shock did not last long this time, though.

"Are you shitting me?"

"Where did we get you from?"

"You're thirty years-old, tops."

"Alien! Asgardian? Alien, right!?"

"What's he still doing here, then?"

"Do we have Level 7 clearance now?"

" _Exactly_ how old is that?"

"Thanks, Bruce." Tony clapped Loki on the shoulder and sauntered away with Eleanore at his side. "Looks like Reindeer Games is preoccupied for a while."

"Good luck!" Eleanore called generally over her shoulder as the door slid shut behind them.

Loki waited for the inquiries to abate, noting Darren and Bruce had separated to different desks and had started on their own work already. Once the white coats quieted, Loki noted the only one who hadn't spoken since he'd arrived. A lanky man with almost-white hair and black-rimmed eye lenses. _Cecil Salfield._ "Have you nothing to add?"

"Can I see one of the lights?" he asked softly. When Loki sent a dim orb over to hover above his hand, he inspected it as closely as Bruce had the day before. The other students gathered close together around the light. "What kind of energy do you gather for this?"

"Light energy," Loki said automatically.

This answer, along with every other answer Loki supplied, only drew more questions. Eventually, after half an hour trying to explain to them how the light spell worked, Loki ended the magic and brushed them off.

"Ask those you can understand," he said impatiently, nodding over to Bruce and Darren, who'd done nothing to help him out. The mortals were incessant and they barely listened to one explanation before shoving another question on top of it. Loki didn't think they understood any more than they had when he'd begun. Cecil, the quiet one, was the least obnoxious, but he could hardly get a word in with the others' assertiveness. Perhaps Eleanore's 'Communications Degree" would set them straight, but she wasn't here, and Loki was on the edge of frustrated anger again.

He ignored slight protests and walked over to a familiar instrument: one of the spectrometer cameras. This one measured heat energy. He started dissembling it on a clear white desk with a computer screen in front of him. He noted the search options available on the computer, but he had no idea what he'd be looking for. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and spoke quietly.

"Jarvis."

" _Yes, Master Loki?_ "

He was glad that had worked. "Can you explain these components to me through text alone?"

" _Certainly, sir. Please point the camera lens at the objects in question._ "

Loki found the camera set into the back of the phone and aimed it at the desk where he'd spread the separated parts. As he hovered over them, a dialog box appeared with a line connected to each component, telling him what it did and offering further information on what they were made of and how they worked. Loki learned about transistors, circuit boards, different lens structures, and more. He lost himself in research while conversation hummed behind him.

An hour and a half later, Loki raised his head in response to movement on the periphery of his vision. "Cecil Salfield."

"Mr. Loki," the young man greeted him. He gestured a hand over the now partially reconstructed camera. "I've never taken one of these apart before."

He was nervous. Loki's earlier animosity had thinned and evaporated gradually, leaving plain acceptance in its wake. Mortals had very little time to learn all they could, and intellectuals were curious. No wonder they'd been so eager to ask. "Have you made any advancements in terms of energy identification?"

"No," Cecil admitted. "Mr. Stark sent me over here to see if you have any ideas."

So Darren was comfortable enough to delegate now. "I'm still learning myself. Technology here is so different from that of Asgard."

Cecil's face brightened a bit. "Is there anything I can explain? I'm an engineer, electrical and robotics."

"I believe I understand this device," Loki assured him. The boy's expression fell toward disappointment. "You can tell me the expertise of your colleagues."

"Oh, sure." Cecil turned and surveyed the other lab coats across the room who'd split into groups, talking to Bruce and Darren respectively. "Karen's biomechanical engineering with a minor in materials science. John's the wiz kid; he's got five degrees already. biotechnology, physics, mathematics, biology, and microelectronics. He's working on a medical degree now."

 _Microelectronics_. No wonder the man had been called in for this investigation. But Cecil was still speaking.

"Analise also has a chemistry degree, but she also double-majored in chemical engineering. She's one of the scientists assigned to analyze the Captain's blood from that one mission… which I'm supposed to know nothing about. And the stuff from the hospital attack, which I am supposed to know about."

"I won't be the one to sell you out," Loki said. "Go on."

"Patricia's a computer programmer, one of the best ever. She doesn't hack, though. Moral thing. And that's all." Cecil put his hands on his hips with a sigh of finality.

"What information do you have on the microbots?" Loki asked first, thinking he might as well expand his knowledge of electronics while he was on the subject.

"I'll get Analise over here. Just a second." Cecil darted away on long legs and returned a moment later with the dark-haired, short woman in tow.

"Microbots?" she started without preamble. "Here, I can show you what I have." She pulled up a display from the nearest computer, which separated into four screens. One had close images of the actual robots, while another had pictures of… cells? Were they called cells here? The other two had lists of chemical compounds and their effects. Loki saw the nerve depressant and the paralytic that had been used on Steve, along with something that gradually 'thinned' his blood so he'd eventually have died if Eleanore hadn't gotten the mess out of his system.

"Tell me about the chemicals," Loki said, switching his mind to new matters.

"It's a new mixture, not on our records. All of these were in Captain Rogers' blood," Analise pointed to the 'thinner', the paralytic, the nerve depressant. "But this paralyzer and the nerve stuff were much more present in his sweat. I'm guessing someone heated him up…?"

"I have no idea," Loki answered honestly. "Miss Engman saved his life; I only assisted."

"Was she in here earlier? Mr. Stark's girlfriend, right?" Analise asked, nodding understanding.

Something seemed off to Loki about that description, but he couldn't say what. He let it go. "Yes, I believe she is still in the building. I can contact her if you wish."

"Maybe after this," Analise dismissed him. "Anyway, back to the show. The microbots from Captain Rogers' body are different from… these." She pulled up a parallel image of different tiny robots. "See how these body ones have little ganglia? They actually attach to blood vessel walls, nerve endings, what have you. Meanwhile these attack ones have tiny pincers and they change the natural oils of skin into acid. So that explains a lot."

It did. "What can you tell me of the microbots' structure?"

"John's the one for that. John!" Analise called loudly across the room. The red head of John Jacobs swiveled to meet her gaze, and he jogged over. "Mr. Loki wants a report on microbot structure."

"They're almost impossibly small," John began immediately. "I'm still trying to figure out some things myself. I wish I could talk to the person who sweat them out of Captain Rogers' body. Was it you?"

Loki frowned. Why were they not informed of the mission's specifics? Or had they not paid attention? "Eleanore Engman healed him."

"How did she do that? Make him sweat, I mean. I know she's kind of his handler."

Out of all the lab coats, John was probably Loki's least favorite. But he suddenly understood why they hadn't been informed of Eleanore's involvement. She was a mutant. They probably didn't even know she was the armored, dragon-riding Avenger. "You should ask her about it. I'll contact her immediately."

"She'll be back up here sometime, won't she? Don't interrupt whatever she and Mr. Stark are doing." John also shrugged Loki's offer away. "Can you tell me where the microbots were focused? Were they in his blood stream? Were they on his spinal cord?"

"Again, I do not know." Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead turned his attention back to the display, sliding his phone back storage without the students noticing. "Can you tell me about the power source for these microbots?"

"I couldn't find one, honestly," John said, gesturing so the images slid aside to reveal a tiny, disassembled flesh-eating bot. "No battery, no nothing. I was working on a hypothesis that something in the Captain's body fed them, but now I think it might have been magic."

 _Really. What gave you that impression?_ "I sensed a great deal of power controlling them. A malevolent will."

"How do they direct their will without being present?" Cecil asked from the fringes of the interaction.

"I have never attempted such a working," Loki said thoughtfully. "I'll have to examine the theory. And speak to Miss Engman myself."

"Is she an expert or something?" Analise asked doubtfully. "I've never heard that she has a hard STEM degree."

Loki was already feeling foolish for explaining Eleanore's credentials to this group of… children. He was also getting frustrated at their close-mindedness and the language gap— what in Hela's name was a STEM degree? First they didn't believe in magic, and now they dismissed those who could help them. Midgard was not so different from Asgard after all. "She has a Communications Degree, if that's what you mean."

John and Analise exchanged a derisive glance then that made Loki's chest tighten. Memories of _that very expression_ directed at him for an eon. Decades and centuries of derision, residing in a golden shadow, working twice as hard to be strong enough, skilled enough, indefinably _acceptable_. He was suddenly _very_ dangerously close to losing his temper. "Excuse me."

"What's his problem?" he heard John whisper as he approached the window that overlooked the Potomac river. From here, he could see the battleground from just hours before. SHIELD agents were cordoning off the area and turning away pedestrians and tourists.

Footsteps approached from the other group. "Need a break?" Banner asked companionably, hand in his pockets, gazing across the water.

Loki sighed and drew a shallow breath, frustrated at the still-throbbing knot in his chest. His vision was pink-tinged, and he _couldn_ _'t calm down_. Where before, he would have stayed and put those lab coats in their place with a few well-chosen words, he now retreated so he didn't physically rip them apart. They were controlling him, Thanos and the Other, and he had no remedy. He was a puppet, and worse, a conscious one. His breathing shortened, the knot compressed. His vision reddened… "Your monster and mine are not so different," he managed to murmur from behind clenched teeth.

Banner considered him for a matter of seconds, still calm and unafraid. "Let's go get some lunch."

Loki didn't even make the effort to consider the incongruity of that suggestion. He just turned and stalked out of the room, listening to Banner following close behind him. At least if he needed to be subdued, the green monster could take care of it.

"I was thinking somewhere over the bridge," Banner said companionably as they waited for the elevator in the deserted hallway.

Loki pressed his lips together and nodded. He could hold himself together until they were far enough away from this lab. Probably.

If not for the infernal memories coursing unbidden through his mind. With every effort Loki made to quash them, they only grew stronger.

The elevator arrived with a beep, and the doors opened to reveal Eleanore and Tony.

"Hey," Eleanore greeted them sunnily. Then she read the situation.

 _Get away from me_ , Loki mentally ordered, even as the dream resurfaced in all its death and gore. The anger inside him longed for it. _Death, death, death!_ The conscious part of his mind rebelled, but it was growing weaker.

But, of course, she didn't obey the command. Instead Loki felt a tentative brush against the edge of his anger, like sea foam on a shoreline. Then a wave washed through his consciousness, turning his vision back to normal, relaxing his heart, giving him room to breathe.

It was over in a few seconds. Loki let out a sigh, wondering if she could tell how _relieved_ he was. Or maybe she was relieved, and he was feeling that residually. Either way, it was better than the numbing, exhausting, controlling rage.

Tony Stark was staring at him, apparently aware that they'd all come very close to quite a few executions, Loki's being the last of them. He looked from Eleanore to Loki to Banner and opened his mouth to speak.

"We were going to take lunch orders," Eleanore said quickly. "You guys want anything?"

"We're going out," Banner answered. "I need to stretch my legs, and I don't know DC that well."

"Suit yourselves, slackers." Tony's tone was much less hostile than Loki had ever heard it. "Remember you're on Union time."

Whatever that meant. Loki wasn't about to ask for clarification. The other two disembarked from the elevator and Loki and Banner boarded it.

"Better?" Banner asked. "You seem… better."

"Eleanore worked her peculiar brand of magic," Loki said.

"Huh." Loki could tell Bruce was considering this. Wondering whether she could do the same for him. Loki watched as the idea was experimented with, hoped for, and discarded. _Too dangerous,_ Banner was likely thinking.

 _Eleanore lives with a fair amount of danger, Doctor. I doubt you would be the end of her._ But Loki left that conversation for a later time. He was weary again; his mind was slow. He let himself recover in silence as he accompanied Banner through the crowded main floor of SHIELD, out the front doors into the sun, to the long path across the bridge where cars whizzed by and left trails of disgusting chemicals in the air.

"Have you eaten around here before?" Banner asked when they reached the other side of the bridge.

"This morning," Loki answered him. "A street vendor's gyro."

"I was thinking something more digestively safe," Banner muttered, surveying the buildings and the path that diverged toward the FDR Memorial. "What do you say to some Italian?"

"I say yes." Loki saw the small restaurant in question and willingly agreed to it.

"You had Italian since you've been here?" Banner asked as they neared the restaurant.

"Lasagna," Loki answered. "Eleanore is half Italian, apparently."

"I can see that," Banner mused. "I guess I've never met her mom. Tony's mentioned her, though."

"Table for two?" asked a server in a green shirt. He led them to a table next to the wide front window. It was long after noon, which Loki had learned was the time usually reserved for lunch on this realm. A two o'clock smattering of customers dotted booths and tables across the small business.

The waiter took their drink orders (both simple waters) and handed them menus. There was lasagna, but it was reserved for the 'supper' section. Loki abandoned it right away and looked through the other descriptions for lunch dishes. Salad was a fallback.

"Anything look good?" Banner inquired, looking down through his eye-lenses. Loki thought that made him look incredibly aged, like pictures of Eleanore's grandfather or an older version of her uncle.

"I have no idea what any of this really is," he admitted.

"Oh yeah, of course. Sorry." Banner folded his own menu and leaned his elbows on the table. "Is there something that catches your eye, or do you want to hear about everything?"

"Ravioli?"

"Pasta pockets, like, sealed with meat and stuff inside." Banner held up his fingers in a square to indicate size. "Usually has sauce on top of it."

"I'll try that," Loki decided. He didn't like relying on others for such simple tasks. If the food was disgusting, he'd learn something and eat again later.

The server took their orders and dropped off their drinks in one visit. Loki watched people pass through the window as he sipped the icy water. Banner did the same. The silence was not uncomfortable for Loki, but he wondered if the other man found it so. Possibly. They'd been harsh enemies, after all. Perhaps it helped that the green beast had smashed Loki firmly into the floor, which made Banner the undisputed victor in their clash. Loki wondered where the kindness had come from, removing him from the lab to help him or stop him. But he'd studied Dr. Bruce Banner in his plans. The man was naturally selfless and drawn to those he could help. He was a healer, after all. It must ache that his alter-ego caused so much pain.

"How do you control it?" Loki asked curiously, figuring if the man had asked him out for lunch to help dispel an uncontrollable bout of rage, then they could talk about the Hulk.

"Took a while," Banner admitted readily. "At first, I didn't understand it. I still don't really. That much gamma radiation should have killed me, you know." He paused, and Loki nodded for him to continue. "Tony actually gave me a good sense of purpose. Protection, not just destruction. I'd figured out how to point The Other Guy away from populated areas by the time I got on the helicarrier. But in New York, he helped people. He made sure to smash—"

"Enemies," Loki supplied helpfully. "I'm under no illusions on that score, I can assure you."

Banner actually smiled for the first time since Loki had known him. "The Other Guy punched Thor across a train station. You hear about that?"

Loki felt a laugh shake his lungs, unbidden and welcome. "No, somehow that fact escaped my notice." He pictured Thor grappling with the Hulk, and very likely holding his own. Mjolnir certainly added to his strength. He must have been caught off-guard, as the green beast wouldn't be one to worry about an 'honorable' hit.

"Yeah… The Other Guy holds a grudge." Banner was laughing as well, just barely.

The waiter arrived then with their plates. Loki tried the ravioli and found it very good. The sauce was called 'Alfredo' for this dish. Banner had ordered 'traditional' spaghetti, which turned out to be long noodles that one twirled into a mass with their fork, along with balled meat. Meatballs.

"Good?" Banner asked.

"Yes, thank you. And yours, Dr. Banner?" Loki could be polite. The food was giving him strength again. Or maybe it was the sun. But why would the sun give him strength? Jotuns thrived in its absence. _And there goes my pleasant mood._

"It's great. And you can call me Bruce. Everyone does." Banner— Bruce— was unaware of Loki's new melancholy. "So what kind of food do you normally eat?"

"I've heard Eleanore describe 'Irish fare'," Loki began. "Meat and potatoes? Much of Asgard's dishes are something akin to that."

"Not bad," Bruce said. "Any favorites?"

"We—they import many dishes as well. My favorite has always been Alfheim's stew made of vegetables and cream, and a dessert of their flaxberries."

"Huh. I've always liked a good pasta myself." Bruce indicated his half-finished plate.

"I've come to appreciate the dish myself, during my time here. Do you suppose it's too dire to hope a mission sends me to Italy?"

"Well, if you have to go somewhere…" Banner chuckled around a mouth full of food.

"Well, it might be good for Eleanore to learn more of her heritage," Loki added as a tentative jest.

"Oh yeah, totally fine then," Bruce assured him sarcastically.

The finished their meals at the same time. Bruce paid (Loki needed mortal money, or he needed to counterfeit some… but that was likely not allowed) and they walked leisurely back to the Triskelion.

"I could show you some meditation techniques," Bruce suggested contemplatively. "I used them for a long time, before the Avengers."

"I would be willing to learn. However, I do not believe it would make my anger any safer." Loki wanted this man, who controlled one of the few beings who could defeat Thor, to know about this darkness that lurked in his mind. He wanted someone to end him, if necessary. Thanos wouldn't get this realm from Loki.

"Might help you avoid it, though," Bruce returned easily. "I'll get your email today and send you some videos."

Loki assumed that Eleanore would help him with that, or Jarvis. He had no idea what an email was, although he heard the term before. "Thank you. I do appreciate your help."

"Maybe you can learn to protect, too." Bruce shrugged hopefully.

"Our monsters are a bit different, in that regard," Loki said.

"How so?" Bruce asked.

"Yours can rescue. I destroy. Indiscriminately." _You have no idea what monsters like me have done. To this very realm._

"You seemed pretty discriminate yesterday and this morning," Bruce argued amiably, looking through the fence along the bridge to the wide expanse of water below. "I saw the footage. I saw Turkey, too. You're pretty bad at hiding your good side."

"Believe what you will." Loki knew that the Hulk wouldn't show the same hesitation if he lost control. Banner could think him good; Loki had a backup plan.

The lab was much the same as when they'd left. Tony and Eleanore were still there, and the lab coats were listening to the older and younger Starks speak with a fair amount of reverence. From time to time one of them would pose a query, which the father and son would answer together. Darren sat on the arm of the desk chair Eleanore was using, and occasionally his dialog would change to address her, even though he was answering someone else's question.

Loki could understand that after the day he'd had. Eleanore was a relatively safe conversation subject, and she at least acted like she was interested in the conversation about dark matter and techniques for its observation. She probably was.

"The other half of the team's going to be gone a couple days," Tony said as a greeting. He was noticeably less hostile, going so far as to meet Loki's eyes and shrug. "They're following Tiryaki leads around the globe."

"Sounds fun," Bruce responded. "Make any progress while we were gone?"

"Not really," Darren said. "I've been trying to explain magic, too, but it's just not computing."

"Can you guys do the spell experiments for observation again?" Eleanore asked. "That might help."

"Yeah, sure." Darren leapt up and started setting equipment to face a bare patch of floor.

"Okay, kids, we need every available instrument pointed right there." Tony was much better at giving orders. He walked over the Loki's partially-reconstructed thermal camera. "What the hell happened here?"

"I was examining it," Loki said, walking over. "I wanted to understand the technology. I can put it back."

"There's more than one of these here," Tony assured him airily. Glancing around, he stepped a little closer. "Mind explaining what happened earlier?"

"Not in detail," Loki said. "Suffice to say I won't pose a danger again today." _As long as I stay near Eleanore and Banner._

"Just let me know if you need some Xanax." Tony patted his shoulder and ambled away.

Loki wasn't offended by the touch. It was companionable; he'd seen the man do the same to nearly every other Avenger. Except for Eleanore and Natasha. But both of them had a very untouchable quality at times.

He wondered if anyone had asked Eleanore about healing Steve yet. He'd avoid subjects like that until he knew that everyone else knew what exactly she was.

They'd arranged the equipment, so Loki stood in front of it. Darren stood apart. Loki realized then that the younger Stark hadn't displayed magic all day. Another secret? Oversight? Most likely observation. Darren was looking for a way to explain magical energy, and he was a scientist first.

"Want to summon something again?" Bruce asked in a human version of politeness.

Loki brought his hands together and caught a cloak before sending it away again. The young lab coats' eyes widened.

It was all a repetition of what Loki had done the day before. He tried other spells, sent lights whirling around, brought a pen hovering closer. Avoided summoning weapons. The students asked questions, mostly "How did you do that?" Loki answered as best he could, but nothing connected. There was a language barrier or something. The Allspeak let him literally translate his words, but not the concepts behind them.

"Let's take a break," Eleanore suggested as the hour neared four o'clock.

The lab coats banded together and spoke among themselves, furtively glancing at Loki from time to time. " _What can we ask? It seems like he_ _'s saying what he's saying, and we need to translate it._ "

Loki chose to ignore them for the sake of his sanity, and instead meandered over to Eleanore, who was fiddling with the deconstructed camera as well. "Did you find your scientists?"

"We got ahold of some of them," she answered, replacing a circuit board and smiling up at him. "Oh, Steve says he can't reach you on your phone."

Loki summoned the device, and it vibrated almost immediately with three text messages and a missed call from Steve.

" _Heading into Turkey again. Jarvis says this will send to you and Eleanore both."_

" _Two suspects traced from Turkey to Siberia. Over Sea of Okhotsk presently."_

" _Natasha tells me to keep both of you updated, but Elle's the only one responding. Two suspects found in Siberia: dead. Can't tell what killed them. SHIELD picking up bodies in an hour. Can you tell if there's magic involved, Loki?"_

Loki dismissed the call notification as he'd seen Eleanore do, swiping his finger across the screen until the words and box faded. He responded to Steve's text. " _I don_ _'t hold my phone as closely as Eleanore does. I have no idea if I can trace magic on dead bodies— describe the area where you found them."_

"You're a quick texter," Eleanore complimented after he'd sent the message.

"I learn useless skills nearly as quickly as I do useful ones," Loki said.

She chuckled. "What'd you get for lunch?"

"Ravioli. Alfredo ravioli."

"Mmm, sounds good." But Eleanore was distracted by Darren walking by with another piece of equipment procured from who-knew where. "Sorry for all the tediousness."

"These students don't listen," Loki confided. "I can't explain what they won't hear."

"I'll stick around today. We can work on it. I took a teaching course once, did I tell you?"

"You have now." Loki didn't know how to tell her that these scientists thought her beneath them, with her Communications Degree. They were much worse than Tony, who really respected Eleanore underneath his teasing.

"Can you do another light?" Eleanore asked, looking thoughtful. Her mind trailed even more than Loki's did.

Loki created a dimmed orb and enhanced its coloration so that it flickered with the colors of a fire. "Why?"

"What do you see when you do this?" she asked instead of answering him.

"The finished product," Loki gestured to the little flames. "Before that, I imagine it."

"Can you create a visual of what you imagine?" Eleanore was growing excited. She thought she'd grasped something.

Loki extinguished the orb, understanding her train of thought. "I can attempt it." He pulled up dusty memories of his own magic lessons, the ones Thor also had to witness, so long ago. Loki had been eight years-old and leaps and bounds ahead of Thor in the subject matter. The tutor, named Fikri, struggling to find a method that the golden prince would understand, had pulled forth an illusion of the 'connected energy of all things.' It was, Loki later learned, as much as anyone could know of the workings of the universe. Fikri had pulled aside and discarded heat, light, motion, gravity, until the undercurrent of infinity showed itself. Yggdrasil and all her branches. This was what magicians understood and felt innately. The very fabric that held the known to the unknowable.

It had been so long since Loki had really thought about that demonstration, he was surprised he remembered it at all. More surprising was the warmth and happiness that suffused the undeniably _good_ recollection.

 _Focus,_ he told himself sternly. The illusion was simple enough, easier even than making a double of himself. The details were irrelevant, as long a one remembered the currents. He started with light, the most visible energy, and layered heat over it, then physicalities like gravity and motion.

Eleanore stepped back as the mass of the known universe expanded in front of her up to the ceiling. Loki heard the scattered conversations in the room cease until footsteps brought everyone around the swirling, tiny galaxies and quasars and infinite emptiness between them that still pulsed with light yellow energy.

Once everyone was gathered, Loki stripped away the layers one by one, as Fikri had. Light and heat faded into currents and eddies of gravity and motion. Gravity and motion blended into the Worlds Tree. Loki had last seen it from the inside, traveling by Tesseract. Before that, it had appeared on the periphery of his vision as he fought Thor in the Observatory.

"What is this?" Bruce asked wonderingly, the magic reflecting off his optics.

"Yggdrasil," Loki explained, his own reverence stunted by familiarity. Yggdrasil simply was, for him. And now, it was for these mortals as well. "Midgard is here," Loki pointed to the base of the tree, lighting the realm for significance. "Jotunheim, Vanaheim, Svartalfheim, Muspelheim, Alfheim, Niflheim, Nidavellir, and Asgard."

"So what… like a map?" Tony asked.

"A connection," Loki corrected him. "The Nine are connected by Yggdrasil."

"Dad, it's a wormhole," Darren explained in strange mortal terms. To Loki, he said, "This was a good idea. I learned this from my mom when I was learning magic."

"You never told me Earth has a _wormhole_ ," Tony exclaimed almost angrily at his son.

"We can't travel it here," Darren said. "There are portals to Vanaheim from here, but we can't just hop the Bifrost train and come out wherever we want. Mom said it would be dangerous to tell you."

Loki agreed with Jana's assessment. The last thing Midgard and Yggdrasil needed was for humans to attempt a Bifrost of their own without the required knowledge. To draw attention back to the matter at hand, he cleared his throat. "What you see here is magic, which all sentient things feel at some level. Your kind even knew the truth of the Worlds Tree long ago, and you've not forgotten. Wormholes, legends. You knew all along."

"Definitely did _not_ know," Tony protested, but he was just speaking to hear his own voice. His attention was still trained upward, his eyes tracing each branch. "Jarvis, you logging this?"

"Stark, I will hunt you down if you attempt a bridge without consulting me." Loki let a real threat creep into his tone. Jana had been completely right to keep this knowledge from Tony.

"Noted," Tony said absently. "But I'm gonna have questions. All the questions."

 _What else is new?_ Loki thought. "I showed you this to explain magic. If you can identify the undercurrent of energy, you can…" _Wait,_ he thought. Something was wrong with this explanation. Or rather, this situation. He looked around, then frowned at the Tree. He'd shown the layers, he'd explained the energy of all sentient… That was it.

"Your machines can't find magic," he said with satisfaction born of a long-troubling problem's solution.

"What?" Bruce asked, confused.

"The energy of _sentience_ ," Loki reiterated, feeling nearly excited by the discovery. "Sentience, don't you see? _You_ can sense the magic, _you_ know it's there, but a machine never would. The most you get is garbled readings of a different sort." Bor above, was he _smiling_ like an excited child?

Darren was smiling, too. "I get it! Dad, it's innate. Like you said, it's all intuitive! We can feel it, but the machines can't!"

Bruce was absently grinning at the general aura of excitement that pervaded the room, but he faded into a frown moments later. "So we can't trace the magician?"

"No, you can't." Loki understood this was a setback for them. But it was a breakthrough for him, and he let himself feel good about it.

Tony was also disappointed. "We can't. But can you?"

"It's very dependent," Loki said. "I'll work out some spells with Darren. We will trace his next action, but I cannot promise anything beyond that."

The lab coats, hitherto silent, started whispering among themselves. " _Dark matter, though? Couldn_ _'t it be dark matter?" "We have to be able to quantify it, if it can be sensed." "Don't you guys think a thousand-year-old guy would know what we can measure?" "He doesn't have our machines."_

Their speculation was annoying, but pointless. Loki ignored it and secured the illusion of Yggdrasil to the floor and ceiling.

"…so since you contain a consciousness, you can sense it!" Darren was re-explaining to Eleanore, who was nodding along.

"I got it the first time, dear," she assured him. "Sentience. Maybe proving the existence of souls."

"I know, I'm just excited to figure it out." Darren kissed her forehead and bounded off to a computer to type up the findings.

"So Steve missed a lot today," Eleanore commented to Loki offhandedly.

"I suppose he did." Loki looked at the reflection of the Tree in the windows to the east. The sun shone through it from the west and made interesting patterns as the magic intersected it into shimmering patterns.

She held her phone up. "Can I take a picture of this?"

"Do you need my permission for that?" Loki asked blankly.

"I'm asking if I _can_ take a picture of it. If it's _possible_."

"Ah. Yes, it's possible. Do you need me to label the realms for you?"

"I got it. You and Darren both describe them to me." She lifted the device and captured a clear photo of the illusion. On that device, it was no longer an illusion at all. "So is this a metaphor, or it the tree physically there?"

" _Someone_ asks the real questions," Tony said with a sigh, looking over her shoulder at the picture. "If it's there, Rock of Ages, why haven't we noticed it? Not doubting you," he held up his hands, "just asking."

"As I said, you've always known it was there. Your legends formed around it, some of your artists sensed the truth of things. No?"

" _Yes!_ " Eleanore exclaimed suddenly. Now she'd discovered something as well. Or remembered it. Those words were synonymous at present. "Tony, it's _The Music of the Spheres_! It's the _Dream of Scipio!_ "

"The _Myth of Er_ ," Bruce agreed quietly. "So we did kind of know."

Loki had been lost as soon as Eleanore started naming what he assumed were Midgardian works, but he understood the tone of agreement. "All living things know. It's magic."

"Fuuuuuck…" Tony trailed off quietly, running both hands down his face. "I just need some time with this. I'm going back to New York tonight. Bruce? Going or staying?"

"I'll stay at the DC facility," Bruce said. "I want to write a report from there, maybe come in tomorrow to collaborate with Darren."

"Science paper!" Darren said from behind the computer screen.

"Yeah, we'll have to write another paper. So many discoveries, so little time." Tony sighed again, looking tired for once in his life. He cocked his head at Loki and nodded. "Thanks for… you know. Figuring that out. Even if it means we can't catch that bastard."

"I'm going to catch them," Loki promised, feeling confident after a trend of successes. Battle, then this. Not really a trend, just a somewhat good day. Still.

"Hold you to that." Tony waved, walking out the door. "Keep me updated!"

It was much quieter once he left. Loki was left watching the lab coats, who were still looking apprehensively at the Tree. Cecil would occasionally meet his eyes, but the others avoided him. Fear of the unknown? Or were they absorbed in speculation? Loki decided it didn't matter.

"Want to go home for supper?" Eleanore asked him from over near Darren's claimed desk.

"Yes." That sounded restful. Quiet.

"I'm going to work on this," Darren answered absently. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yep, love you." Eleanore kissed his hair and wrapped an arm around his middle in an embrace before she straightened. "Do you need a ride to the lab, Bruce?"

"We've got two cars here. Tony took his suit."

"Night, then. Bye guys." Eleanore waved to the students, who watched her and gave halfhearted salutes. "Jet's in the car," she told Loki, once they entered the hall and neared the elevator door.

"Tired of following you around?" Loki asked.

"I don't know. Sometimes he gets really tired. I need to take him flying tomorrow, and feed him. It's been a pretty good day, huh? Good catch on the sentient thing."

"Thank you." Loki felt generous, so he added, "You gave excellent advice in providing a visual model."

"I did, didn't I?" She smiled and entered the main floor without a backwards glance. "Those kids are a little distant."

 _They don_ _'t approve of you,_ Loki thought. "They're very… involved with the science of this realm. They do not appreciate seeing it disproved."

"They'll like it when they get older."

"Says the sage nineteen year-old."

"I don't think they're as old as me," Eleanore protested. "Or not much older, if they are."

They reached the car then, and conversation ceased as Eleanore carefully backed them out of the parking space and curved the vehicle out of the garage. Loki didn't feel the need to speak again, even when they reached the apartment building and trooped inside in a weary trio.

Loki let out a small sigh as he entered the kitchen. But then he looked at the floor tiles, pictured Eleanore dead again, and Steve, and his triumph from earlier was gone.

What was he doing? Relieved to return to this prison cell? With these mortals who did not even know of Yggdrasil? He was befriending the very man who'd smashed him into the ground in a humiliating defeat. What in Hel… What had he done? What would he do? What did he want from this? A friendship of perhaps sixty mortal years, then what? Pain, that's what. Even if Eleanore and Darren and the rest of them somehow survived mortal maladies and eclipsed others in age, he'd never be ready to let them go if he grew attached now.

There was so much to dislike about them, too. Short-sighted, presumptive things. They needed a guide through their very planet's portals. They needed a slave, and he was it…

He wasn't angry. He was resigned. Everything was, in the end, useless. No matter what he accomplished here, no matter how he 'healed,' he'd be alone soon enough anyway.

"It's a little early for supper," Eleanore said, interrupting his inner pity. "What would you say to a little laundry?"

"I'd say there is very little of it to do," Loki replied, wondering how mortals accomplished life at all with all the insignificant tasks of cleanliness they had to take care of themselves. "Your aunt was good enough to take care of that for us while we were with them."

"I'm going to change my sheets, though," Eleanore said. "Yours could probably use it, too. They'll feel cleaner and smell better. We can try this new fabric softener I found."

"Oh, well in that case." Loki could feel the sarcasm seeping from his body in waves, but Eleanore only smiled at him and disappeared into her room again.

"Just take the sheets and pillowcases off your bed," she told him through the walls. "Leave the comforter and stuff on top of the mattress. There's a basket in your closet. You could wash whatever dirty clothes you have, too."

Loki did as he was told, imagining several choice remarks about Midgardian slavery and whether or not his future paycheck could be used to hire someone to accomplish mundane tasks for him. The basket in the closet was collapsed into a flat square, but he unfolded it and stuffed the sheets and pillow coverings and his unwashed garments inside. He found Eleanore waiting for him in the main room, two large bottles on top of her own bedding and miscellaneous clothing items.

"Okay, let's go." She headed for the hall door and held it open with the basket balanced against her hip.

They went down the stairs, then continued downward into a cellar. In one doorless alcove sat machines into which they loaded coins and 'detergent' and fabric softener in turn.

When they returned to the apartment, Eleanore wrote in her notebook until it was time to switch the clothes to the 'dryer'. Loki accompanied her to do this, then returned to staring at the wall of photos, contemplating how to best distance himself. The truth would be useful. She could tell when he was lying, anyway, most likely. Tell Eleanore of the dreams, of the mind control, of her own danger. Make her fear him, make Steve fear for her. Perfect.

"We could go for a walk," Eleanore suggested brightly, setting her notebook on her desk and entering the main room.

Loki considered her. "I killed you."

"What?"

"In the dream. That was the… the end point. You and Rogers were dead by my hand." He wondered what sort of reaction this would get. Not fear, likely not anything he would expect. Eleanore was strange that way. He'd have to work at it.

"Oh." Surprise raised her eyebrows and twisted her mouth up at the corner. "But you were— I felt panic there. Right? Panic from you. That's why I tried to wake you up."

"Yes, I suppose so." Loki remembered the choking, drowning feeling because his body wasn't getting enough air in the moment. "Nevertheless, that was the dream."

"Nightmare, you called it," Eleanore pointed out. "So you don't want to kill us."

"Not at present, no." And her confidence in that was astounding. Brash, reckless mortal.

"That must have been weird then. What did we do to make you kill us?" Eleanore was blunt as ever. She would make a terrible spy.

"You would make a terrible spy." Loki voiced his thought. "No tact whatsoever."

"Is tact common when asking about the events leading to one's hypothetical demise?" Articulate bluntness. And a cheeky grin.

Loki shook his head and scoffed amiably, feeling much lighter after unburdening the most horrible revelation. "Tact is never common in a conversation with you."

"Are you okay, though?" she asked, turning in her chair to lean her back against the arm, her feet dangling over the side. Facing Loki completely and examining him closely.

"Are you not concerned, living in such close proximity to a man who dreams of your death?" Distancing wasn't working, and now he was stuck in a conversation about his own weaknesses.

"I mean, dreams are just dreams." Eleanore shrugged his question off. "I have nightmares all the time. Some are worse than others, but ultimately, it's just your subconscious having a field day. I'm not really surprised that your subconscious doesn't like me. Want to watch a movie?"

Loki stared over at her a moment, then looked at the dark television screen. In hindsight, not much frightened or concerned Eleanore, not when her personal safety was involved. She worried overmuch about others, but she threw caution to the winds to help them. No wonder she and Steve got along so well. "What sort of movie?"

"I don't own a lot. Here." She got up and handed him the remote control. "Do you know how to work that?"

"I can work it out." Loki found the power button and started flicking through the programs. Channels.

"The guide button lets you see what's on without looking through everything."

"Yes, thank you, I can do this." Loki wished he'd come up with a less irritable, more sarcastic answer, but Eleanore still smiled. He pressed the guide button and used the arrow keys to look at each show's description. "Catfish."

"They trick people into going on dates," Eleanore explained.

"And you watch this?"

"No, I don't. Try the Discovery channel. Four thirteen."

Loki obediently punched the numbers in, and found something about 'outer space'. He selected it, and the guide disappeared. "Simplistic, I presume."

"Not so much to me," Eleanore said. "If you want to correct it, the pause button has two little vertical lines." She rose and went into the kitchen, stuck something in the warming box, and pulled a bottle of sparkling grape juice out of the refrigerator.

Loki accepted the glass when she handed it to him and tried to focus on the story being told about the theoretical formation of the planets billions of years ago. "This may not be false," he said.

"What did you learn about it?" Eleanore asked, pouring unruly white and yellow puffs into a large, lime green bowl.

"My history started with the knowable," Loki mused, thinking back. "But there are tales of beings much older than the Aesir; older than the Nine Realms. They created objects of life and will. The Tesseract was said to be one of these."

"So that's real? Huh."

"It is merely a story to most," Loki responded. "Something to make sense of the ancient magics. Truly, I think that the objects were created just before a large scale war, which thrust society back into oblivion, magically speaking. Theories and power lost to time, and now they are considered legendary because we have no concept of what created the gems."

"Gems?" Eleanore inquired, setting the bowl on the small table between the chairs.

Loki stopped himself a moment, realizing how easily he'd fallen into thinking out loud to this mortal. It was simple to do when he had a captive audience. Should he reveal his knowledge of the gems? Should he keep his hand hidden? _Will she even inform SHIELD if I tell her?_ "It requires a long explanation."

"I'll listen, if you'll tell me," Eleanore promised easily, settling into her seat cross-legged and leaning on the arm.

"I will tell you the story first." Loki took a deep breath and gathered all his knowledge together in his mind. "Ages ago, long before the Nine were formed, there were Cosmic Entities: Entropy, Infinity, Death, and Eternity. They are also called the Celestials in some versions of this legend. They used the six Infinity Gems, or Stones, to rule to universe. However, the stones were scattered to the cosmos. Even touching one would mean instant death for you, and a more prolonged ending for someone like myself. However, tools have been created to harness the stone's power."

"Your scepter?" Eleanore asked suddenly. "Is that something?"

"It is something," Loki confirmed. "The Mind Stone. The Tesseract is the Space Stone, which can control location. Exact location, not like my traveling."

"What's your traveling?" Eleanore wondered aloud.

"You're getting sidetracked," Loki told her. "Do you want to know about the stones or not?" He wasn't angry, or even frustrated, but he liked to talk about one thing at a time. Especially when the subject was so sensitive and dangerous.

"Why can't I learn about both?" she asked, and it was genuine curiosity.

Loki suddenly remembered another specific moment from his childhood. During an early lesson in magical theory, he's asked question after question as the tutor, Fikri, tried to explain the very origin of various energies. _"Prince Loki,"_ he'd said, _"You cannot hope to master one thing if you cannot fix your mind to it. And besides, it is simpler to explain and to learn one subject at a time."_ Fikri had been one of Loki's favorite teachers, humorous and fair and vastly intelligent. He was also very old when Loki was very young, so he'd long since passed to the next world. But now, a thousand years later, Loki understood what he'd said.

"One thing at a time," he told Eleanore, trying to sound as patient as Fikri had. "There are six gems. Are you not interested in the rest?"

"What one's in your scepter? Mind?" she asked, sufficiently refocused for the moment.

"The Mind Gem," Loki confirmed. "The name is purposeful, if you remember. It is used to control the minds of others, and even elevate its user's mind to a greater plane."

"Does someone have to use it, or does it have a will of its own?"

Loki blinked at that question. It was excellent, insightful, and it would expose the extent of Thanos' control of him if he answered it truthfully. "Explain your reasoning."

"Well, if you were mind-controlled, which you were, and if Clint also was, then who were you both answering to?" She was looking him straight in the eye, and it could be difficult to hide a lie from her here in her home while she was closely scrutinizing him. But what would happen if he spoke specifically about Thanos' power? They were already controlling his dreams; how far could they reach? Was his consciousness vulnerable? Would that hasten retaliation? Had the dream this morning been a punishment for speaking so freely of Thanos and the Other the day before?

At any rate, the hesitation he'd just shown would have given a lie away. Loki opted for a cautionary truth instead. "If I tell you, he might know it through my mind."

"What would happen then?" She was taking him seriously.

"I honestly don't know," Loki said. "But remember the anger. I am still feeling the effects of the mind control, even now. He still has a hold."

"If you think it's a bad idea, tell me later?" she suggested.

Loki measured her in a glance. She was trusting him again. Wonderful. "I likely will," he hedged uncomfortably.

"Can I ask more questions?" was her next push, without waiting a moment.

"I believe you just did." Loki prepared for whatever she'd inquire about. Probably more about Gems or some such thing.

"What about the other four stones?"

Loki could answer that, though his knowledge was growing more limited. "There are the Time and Soul gems, and rumors of one that controls Reality. Beyond that, I cannot separate fact from fiction."

"So… this guy." Eleanore was cautious now, avoiding Thanos' name, sipping from her glass thoughtfully. "Is he some kind of idiot or what?"

Loki nearly choked on his own beverage. "What?"

"Well, if you were around him for years and you only know about a few gems, then he probably doesn't have all of them, right?" She was nodding to herself, becoming engrossed in her explanation. "He sent you after the Tesseract— Space Gem. With the Mind Gem. So he lost a gem while trying to get another one. He's down a gem, and now the one he wanted is on Asgard, which has to be tougher to break into than a SHIELD facility. So this guy is pretty stupid."

"He would kill you on the spot for even thinking such a thing," Loki said. "I am speaking candidly when I say you should not tempt him. Not if you wish to live."

"Can he hear me?"

"That is the conundrum. I do not _know_." Loki was frustrated by this, his lack of information and control over his own mind.

"So what do you think we should do?" Eleanore was not as frightened as she should have been, calmly taking a crunching bite of the snack and regarding Loki curiously.

"I _think_ you should be careful, you insolent mortal." Loki sighed, running a hand over his face. "Is it not enough that I must protect you from threats on this realm? Would you attract that creature of darkness? I cannot stand against him. Your planet would die."

"You can't… magic him?" She was skeptical. "I've heard you're the most powerful sorcerer."

"In the _Nine_. There are many more planets, many different kinds of power." He had to stop, to control an involuntary shudder that the dredged-up memories were causing. He looked at the television where the planet Earth rotated peacefully, viewed from afar. "You have _no_ idea of your place in the universe."

Eleanore did not respond to that. When Loki braced himself enough to meet her eyes, she was staring distantly through him, chewing the inside of her cheek and thinking hard.

"What is it?" Loki asked resignedly.

She came back, frowning and reserved. "Your— Odin said your mind is too strong to be controlled."

"So you do not believe I was?" Loki felt his stomach clench at the anticipation of rejection.

"No, I know you were," Eleanore assured him. "It just sounded like he… he was really sure about how strong you are. And I can see that; you're stubborn as hell. You hate being ordered around, and god help anyone who doubts you."

"Is there a point to this, then?" Loki queried. "Or are you just listing my faults? I can add quite a few you've yet to observe."

"Those aren't faults," Eleanore responded automatically. "I'm just wondering. Clint said you don't remember? What happened?"

"When did you speak to him of this?" Loki wondered.

"That last day of fencing at the farm. He called to check in on Steve, and I talked to him for a while when I ate lunch."

So they were discussing him, like an experiment or a troublesome child. "Again. Your point."

"It's a personal question."

"You've never hesitated before." Loki scowled at her, remembering the prodding of Jotunheim. He would _not_ get angry, but he _would_ retreat to escape the inclination.

"You're irritated now," Eleanore observed. "This isn't the best time to talk about it." And just like that, her attention switched to the television and away from Loki. "So what's wrong about this? Everything?"

Loki took a moment to watch the tiny space craft orbiting the Earth. "Nearly everything."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No." He drank from his glass, finishing the juice off, and took a piece of the snack. "What is this?"

"Popcorn." She seemed content to watch the program and leave him alone.

Loki let himself stay, wind down, observe the pictures captured of 'deep space' which were actually cosmically beautiful. The 'popcorn' was buttery, light, and savory. It paired well with the white grape juice. Between the eating and the calm voice from the television, he felt his muscles slowly un-clenching to meet the soft leather of the chair.

"Shit," Eleanore said, bouncing up from her seat about ten minutes later. "Laundry."

Loki went with her to retrieve the clothing in two baskets. They brought it back up the stairs and into the apartment, and he mimicked her motions to fold his own clothes carefully, to hang the shirts straight, to shuffle the bed sheets through the air and meticulously half-then-third the towels.

"I'll make my bed." Eleanore took her sheets into her room with her clothes basket, leaving Loki with his own garments and bedding.

Loki decided to do the same. He had seen how the sheets had come off, even if he hadn't paid particularly close attention. How difficult could it be?

Apparently, very difficult. The stretching sheet refused to remain on one corner on his first three attempts, so he held it in place with magic and attached each consecutive corner afterward. He kept dreading that Eleanore would come in and see him wrestling with a thin piece of material. The bed was against the wall, which made things worse. When that part was finally over, he simply spread the other sheet over the bed, and the soft blue blanket after. And it looked not at all the same as the bed that had been dissembled mere hours before. _Infernal mortals and their overly-complicated systems of bedding._

He heard Eleanore approach, but did not acknowledge her until she rapped her knuckled against his open door.

"What?" Loki asked irritably.

"One of your t-shirts got into my basket." She handed the garment over and stayed on the threshold of his room, looking at the bed with a perturbed expression.

Loki could see the train of her thoughts. "What have I done wrong here?"

"Nothing," Eleanore said too quickly. "I just usually… Can I come in?"

Permission to enter a room in her own home? "Yes."

"The sheet's upside down," she started, throwing the blue blanket on the floor. "The tag gets in your face if you have it like this. I also tuck it into the bottom so I don't pull the covers into a mess while I sleep. Here." She tossed him the bottom of the sheet, and Loki tucked it under the mattress. "Then you can choose whether or not to tuck the comforter." She spread the blue blanket evenly on the first try.

 _Show off_.

"You would have been a good palace maid." Loki grinned and caught the pillow she threw at him in response to that. "A _compliment_ , my lady! How could you wound me so?"

"Whatever." Eleanore chuckled along and rolled her eyes at him, walking around to open the top right drawer of the mirrored set. She pulled thin, transparent, white cloth from a small box, which emitted the original flowery scent of the room. She lifted the 'comforter' and stuck the cloth under the stretchy sheet. "Makes the bed smell good."

"I change my original judgment. An _excellent_ maid." Loki felt lighter, somehow, the irritation from before draining away with the clean-scented room and the sunlight filtering through the window.

"You would have been a really bad one," Eleanore observed evenly, laughing again. "What sounds good for supper?"

"Baklava," Loki answered contrarily.

"Hamburger Helper it is." Eleanore left the room and went into the kitchen, pulling a white rectangle from the colder upper part of the refrigerator and unwrapping it into a much-too-large pan with some oil made of olives.

Loki leaned against the island and watched the flames leap to life on the stove. They were much like the fire orb he'd created earlier. "What were you going to ask?"

"You won't like it," Eleanore answered, scraping browning meat from the red block and flinching back as the oil snapped.

"I would like to know, all the same." Loki walked over to the stove and held out his hand. "May I?"

"Cook? You want to cook?" That seemed to give her mind pause, and she just looked up at him, confused. "You can cook?"

"I can attempt." Loki took the stirring instrument and imitated her scraping movements. "I have managed a campfire meal or two in the past thousand years."

"You're splashing oil on the stove. Stir slower. You know, I can get it."

"I'm sure you can." Now this was fun, flustering her with a mess. "Are you in the habit of questioning helpful behavior?"

"It's not helpful if I have to clean up after you," she retorted, half-grinning. "The hamburger is burning."

"This goes into lasagna, does it not?" Loki ignored her suggestions, although he did flip the block and scrape the overly-browned meat off the top.

"We don't have all the stuff for that. If we go grocery shopping tomorrow, we can get it. Jesus, Loki, you're going to burn someone." This in response to a particularly careless scrape, which sent oil off to the side and made her jump back.

"Then don't stand over me," Loki responded easily.

Eleanore walked to the refrigerator again and got milk and butter out, and stepped over Charlie as he affectionately tried to trip her. "Here, this is the rest." She measured the milk with a cup from the cupboard, cut a wedge off the butter, and added water. Then she pulled a box from under the warming box and upended a bag of pasta and a bag of spices into the mess. "You have to stir that so it won't burn to the pan."

"You honor me with this momentous quest," Loki said dryly. "Now tell me what you were going to ask."

Eleanore leaned her back against the counter next to the stove, ostensibly to ignore what Loki was doing with the food. "Are you sure?"

"Quite." Loki was curious what sort of question she _wouldn_ _'t_ ask, when she had no problem querying everyone for everything else.

"Well, I was just thinking," Eleanore began, looking at the calendar blankly. "You're, like, mentally strong. Darren says it takes immense force of will to control the kind of magic you do, and Odin seemed like he agreed with that. So I just wondered, um. What could make you… Do something you didn't want to?"

Loki carefully and deliberately stirred the bubbling pan in front of him, not reacting. "You want to know how they broke me."

"Yeah," she admitted quietly.

 _Isn_ _'t that the question?_ Loki thought. "I do not remember the end results, but I was imprisoned for a great deal of time, in your terms. And before that, I was falling endlessly in an airless, timeless void where nothing was and nothing could be except for myself. Not exactly ripe conditions for mental fortitude."

"Imprisoned?"

"And tortured," Loki acknowledged, keeping his visual attention on the thickening soup-stuff. "I informed your mother of this, you know. Has she not discussed me?"

"No," Eleanore answered plainly. "What... Can you talk about it?"

"I am able," Loki said. "Can you hear it?"

"If you want to tell me, then yes." Eleanore was decided, her jaw set, meeting his eyes when he glanced over.

Loki didn't know if she really could handle it or not, but she was asking to know. Lydia had implied that Loki should tell Eleanore about the torture. Confiding in the mortals had only ever yielded favorable results, including and leading up to their increased trust of him. And, in a strange way, it might be cathartic to share those horrible memories. Perhaps it would show the Other that he wouldn't shy away from pain. That he'd no longer be controlled.

Perhaps if he had an ally, the dreams wouldn't have as much power.

He felt his emotions and voice flatten as he distanced himself from the memories and set to describing them. "Well, there were the beatings, of course. They left my armor in place, but that only held off their fists. My anatomy is, of course, different from a Chitauri, so the… the leader learned where I could be hurt best and attacked there. I can take a great deal of pain, though, so that method did not yield the results they desired." The mix was now more of a sauce than a soup. Loki stirred contemplatively. "I do not know whether they ever knew I eat food and drink water for energy— so unlike them, you understand— but either way they did not provide it. Still, I can survive your lifetime, probably, under those conditions, and they did not want to wait that long. The leader has mental abilities, and he spent hours and days breaking into my mind to find what would… work. What would cause despair." _And he found that in bounteous supply._ "He discovered it, in time. Ripped my memories out and replaced them with fearful ones. Physical torture joined intellective, for added effect. He found that I _do_ need air to survive, and that a lack of it can weaken my defenses greatly. I still cannot sort through all the ideals and... and patterns introduced to my mind at that point. Rage, I know, was one of them. He gradually deconstructed me, like a building torn brick by brick. At my foundation, he found something useful, and delivered me to the one with the gems. And the next thing I remember is being sent to Midgard with the Mind Gem in a scepter, and wanting to destroy everything about this realm." He finished with a sigh of finality and looked over to see what reaction that description had brought forth.

Not much of one. Eleanore pressed her lips into a line and reached up to gather two bowl from the cupboard. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Loki paused at her words. _"I'm sorry you had to go through that._ " You're _sorry? For me? Pity from a mortal?_

But it wasn't pity. It was another simple, truthful statement. Sympathy, perhaps, and genuine sorrow. Loki watched Eleanore venture to her reading chair and settle herself in for more erroneous information from the talking box.

" _I'm sorry you had to go through that._ " What gave him the most pause was her choice of blame. Loki _had_ to go through _that_. He didn't choose it, he didn't deserve it somehow. He was a victim of circumstance, though his choices had led him there. The Other had ordered the torture. Thanos had seized his mind.

No one else spoke of it that way. It was always, " _Why did you do it, Loki?_ _" "How could you, Loki?"_ As though everything he'd ever done before was erased by a few acts.

"We can watch something else if you want," Eleanore suggested, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Loki considered it, looking down into the pan of mush. "Something entertaining." He served himself and sat in his chair. Charlie jumped in his lap and curled up, sniffing for the food. Eleanore turned on a program called _Family Feud_.

In the moment, for a time, Loki let himself feel peace.

 _ **A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait! But here's a 25,000 word, 59-page chapter for you, so please forgive me!**_

 _ **I've been extremely busy with my research project this semester. In case you're wondering, I found one significant correlation out of 5 that I was looking for. So I guess you could say it's been a bit of an uphill climb.**_

 _ **I've been working on this story on and off in my free time, both on this chapter and on future arcs. There's a lot more to come!**_

 **Lily Noir: _Glad you liked the action! There's plenty more on the way, if not immediately. Thanks for your encouragement!_**

 **Vendetta: _Thanks for the good luck wishes, first of all. Also, yeah, Darren finds Tony plenty annoying at times, but they love each other a lot. They're geniuses who aren't that great at communicating, so that's an obstacle for them. Thanks for reading! I hope the wait hasn't put you off!  
_**

 **PrimeReader: _Thank you for sticking with this story! It's great to hear from you! Thanks for the encouragement, and for sharing your thoughts! I do try to share what my (Marvel's) characters are thinking/feeling as much as I possibly can._**

 **Everyone Else: _Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think; reviews are sustenance!_  
**

 ** _Thank you and have a great week,_**

 ** _~PettyWhiteRose_**


	27. Chapter 27: S Spy Kids

_I should have slept back home,_ Steve thought, listening to the quiet whirring of the jet engines. Romanov was flying and Clint was dosing on the bench across from him. They'd left the sun behind during their eastward journey, and it had made a quick appearance while they were in Siberia before disappearing again. The jet was soaring through a clear night sky. Tony and/or Darren had updated this quinjet and others like it so that it could go even faster higher up in the atmosphere where there was little resistance. They were making excellent time on the other side of the planet.

Steve couldn't sleep on a plane. He'd spent the trip learning about modern tracking techniques from a tablet, improving his texting skills with Elle and Darren by staying up to date on their discoveries (and the lack thereof), eating protein bars every few hours, and listening to updates from Clint and Natasha on Tiryaki's interrogation.

The terrorist had given up most of his affiliates without a problem since they were, apparently, past associations for him. The cell had gone to ground after Steve's rescue, but the survivors had set safe houses, and Tiryaki knew where each and every one of them was.

At first, Steve had worried about being sent on a wild goose chase, trekking first to Russia of all places, then across Europe and the Middle East, and even Africa. But they'd found the first two bodies, and he knew Tiryaki had been telling the truth. Steve had a hunch that wasn't quite a conviction that the other suspects they found would also be dead.

The flight to Siberia had only taken five hours, but they'd had to wait for SHIELD to send a Europe-stationed team to retrieve the bodies. They'd ended up spending the local night getting them set up, confirming sources, and trying not to freeze. Steve hadn't heard back from Loki, so he put his phone away and focused on his current teammates. They'd discussed killing techniques (Natasha was just as comfortable with poison as martial arts) but everything was speculation in the field.

Once SHIELD had arrived, Steve had given a report alongside Natasha and Clint, then loaded back up for another hour's ride. They'd found an empty house in Turkmenistan, one in Estonia, another in Poland. In Belarus the occupant was out. They'd waited for two hours, but he never returned for his day-past-expiration-date milk. Clint put out an All Points Bulletin (Steve learned it was called an APB) with the local authorities so they'd know if any terrorists were found dead or alive in the area. Natasha called in a stakeout team to watch the house.

Searching those houses had taken a day. Steve was running ragged as they headed into the second night away from home. His body's clock was completely messed up. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he refused to show that in front of the other two agents.

When they were working, Clint and Natasha were very different people. Natasha was mostly serious, all business and facts, but she also relaxed into this role like it was her natural habitat. She was silent and observational when she wasn't contributing, but every once in a while Steve would hear Clint chuckle at something she'd said. Clint, on the other hand, was more lighthearted and open. He deadpanned situational jokes, explained cultural references Steve hadn't picked up on, and generally seemed to enjoy the mission. He also got along with the locals really well, casually walking up to them and engaging in conversations.

Steve vowed to work on his language skills, since he only knew some German and French. Did Elle's university offer classes? Was there something else he could use? Natasha and Clint both had him beat in that regard, but Natasha was far and away the best linguist. Steve wondered if she'd learned through experience or if she'd been taught at the "Red Room" in her file.

His phone vibrated when they were fifteen minutes outside of Nizwa, Oman. Loki had finally responded hours earlier, but Steve had been too busy to notice. " _I don_ _'t hold my phone as closely as Eleanore does. I have no idea if I can trace magic on dead bodies— describe the area where you found them."_ Another text from Eleanore was what had alerted Steve. " _Don_ _'t we still need to get you more clothes? Did anything get ruined at the farm?"_

Too late, Steve remembered he'd put a load of laundry in the washing machine before he'd gone back to the Triskelion. The clothes probably smelled like mildew by now. Instead of asking Elle to save them, he simply responded, " _I could use a few more shirts and pants. I_ _'ll look for some when I get home."_ As far as he knew, Elle only had a key to his apartment, not the Personal Identification Number for his new 'debit card'. Typically, verbal questions like this came from quiet moments of reflection when Elle remembered something new that needed taking care of. The subject would go to the back of her mind until Steve got back.

It was nice to have people waiting for him to get 'home.'

Next, Steve recalled Siberia's murder scene for Loki. " _Cold, dark, inside a two-room house with two cots and a refrigerator. Lights were left on. No buildings surrounding the house for at least three miles. No sign of injury on the bodies. Romanov theorized poison. Thought you might have other ideas._ _"_

Again, he didn't hear back from Loki right away. Instead, Steve looked though an email notification that had… files attached? He signed in on a tablet to access them more clearly.

It was data from the previous mornings' battle. Video footage from surveillance cameras, stories fed to the media as an explanation for the damage, and the energy data gathered by SHIELD's new spectrometers, both set stationary on the Triskelion roof and on drones. The drones hadn't been in the area, so they'd only picked up trace signals and redirected their course to get a better look. By the time they'd done that, the battle was over and all they caught was Loki pulling the invisibility away from Steve and Eleanore as SHIELD agents pointed guns in their general direction. While that was interesting to see, it wasn't very informative.

The stationary spectrometers on the Triskelion's roof had merely picked up a massive energy surge where the battle had taken place. Steve didn't have anything to compare the readings to, but he figured Tony and Bruce would call them unprecedented or even impossible. Steve had stopped thinking of anything as impossible ever since he woke up from the ice.

His phone alerted him to two new text messages: one from Darren and one from Eleanore. They were apparently in different locations at the moment, but the texts both contained a picture of some sort of magical tree. Darren's text contained a detailed explanation of it: " _Loki created a visual representation of the wormhole that connects the Nine Realms, and he figured out that magic only works with sentience so mechanized or artificial intelligence can_ _'t detect or control it. New data being logged as we speak._ "

That sort of made sense to Steve, although he was left with a lot of questions. _Wormhole? Okay_ _… Sentience, like humans? Can non-mutants use magic? How have we not learned about this? How do we get magic? Can we track the magician? Why doesn't Loki ever text back?_

He read it through a few more times, memorizing the message and the ideas it was trying to convey, before he turned to Elle's text, which was actually two messages' worth of characters. " _Loki did this after we spent all day running into (metaphorical) walls trying to figure out how to detect magical energy. He figured out magic can only be detected by sentient minds (humans, Asgardians, etc.) who know what they're looking for, and that this tree (Yggdrasil) appears in human myths and legends. I_ _'m thinking subconscious awareness? Apparently it takes training 'beyond my lifetime' to fully understand this stuff. Just updating you on the findings. Email with daily report to follow._ "

Steve sat back and absorbed the new information. At least Elle's explanation included some answers to his thoughtful questions.

"Any news?" Clint asked, emerging from the bathroom.

Steve held up his phone. "Apparently machines can't trace magic energy."

Clint, to his credit, took that in stride. "Figures. Any ideas on how we're going to catch the guy then?"

"They say sentient creatures can track them," Steve said. "Maybe Darren, Loki, and Jet."

"Great. So we've got a lead. I'll tell Nat." Clint disappeared into the cockpit and Steve saw his shadow taking a seat next to their pilot.

Steve took the opportunity to check his email further and found the promised missive from Eleanore. It was sent at ten PM local time. Steve had lost track of what time it was, since they were trekking across so many time zones. He opened it on a tablet to find a huge swath of text detailing the time since he'd left that morning, along with a condensed explanation of the mind control Loki had explained to Eleanore over supper.

"… _He says the control is fueled by his own anger. I_ _'d like to talk to you more about it when you get home. Don't send detailed, private information over email or text; especially not a SHIELD-controlled form of Internet. I'm probably going on a watch list just for typing that…_ "

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't like the lack of privacy these futuristic forms of communication offered. The War had involved codes, of course, but not for personal messages. Not that Steve had had any personal messages to send. He'd been too unsure of himself to send a letter straight to Peggy, always figuring she could tell how he was doing from the coded field reports.

But Loki's rage-fueled mind control was something that would concern both SHIELD and himself. What Eleanore had said would make SHIELD more cautious in dealing with Loki. In fact, she might have used the limited information as a warning to get Fury to back off a bit. Either way, it seemed dangerous and suspicious. How much control did whoever it was have? Why hadn't they learned about this before? What precautions was Elle taking? It also made Steve question whether healing was even possible for the former Asgardian prince.

Because Loki had knowledge and power beyond most people's capacity of understanding. Darren knew him, but that didn't hold much weight. Elle trusted him, but she was optimistic. Even if Loki wanted to heal, would he be able to with something tagging his thoughts? Were new ideas being introduced day by day? What signs would signify progress? How could Steve watch for subversion from the private man? Would Loki even tell them if he thought there was a problem?

 _Worry about that when you get home,_ Steve told himself firmly. Letting unfounded doubts fester over the course of days would only damage his budding friendship with Loki. And it _was_ a friendship, no matter how much Tony or anyone else questioned it. Steve didn't let his friends flounder without reaching out a hand to help. If Loki was struggling with mind control, Steve would be there to support him through it. That was the right thing to do.

He turned his attention back to the email, which also carried more details of the discoveries made that day. Steve wished he could have been there to see the tree. It looked amazing from the photos, and Elle's description of the thought process behind the demonstration made it sound that much more incredible.

At the end of the email, after Elle's short signature, was a quick postscript.

" _P.S. We need to talk about something else privately when you get home. It's getting dark here, and I'm tired, so I'm not going to try to put it in code or anything. Nothing to worry about. Something to hope for, in fact. Just get home and we can discuss it and whatever you find out over coffee._

 _-E. Engman_ _"_

Steve could hope. " _Something to hope for_ " probably also involved Loki. Maybe it was something that would prove he could heal. That he wanted to.

"Nat says we've only got one more stop coming up before we hit our own sources," Clint reported, ambling out of the cockpit and sliding into a seat across from Steve. "Just the ones who can't be contacted electronically. We'll head back to the States tonight. This morning, actually. Should get there around three AM local time."

Steve realized that here, sitting in front of him, was someone who'd experienced Scepter mind control before and lived to tell the tale. They had about fifteen minutes before they'd land again. "Clint. Can I ask you something… personal?"

"I'm not dating Natasha," Clint said automatically with the air of someone very bored with that line of inquiry.

"Okay," Steve nodded politely. He hadn't assumed anything of the kind. "I actually want to know about your experience with the mind control."

"Oh." Clint closed his eyes a moment and drew in a breath before meeting Steve's eyes again. "What do you want to know?"

Since he was willing, if not excited, to talk about it, Steve pressed on immediately. "What was it like?"

"Like… mind control, I guess. I wanted to do what Loki wanted done. I wanted to help him. Hasn't he told you about it?"

"Sort of," Steve hedged. "He hasn't talked about it much."

"Yeah, I guess you were out for our little heart-to-heart." Clint nodded and pointed a finger in Steve's general direction. "Eleanore should make you communicate more."

Steve half-grinned at the implied joke. "We're trying for friendship, not interrogation."

"So you'll interrogate me instead. I get it, I get it." Clint heaved a very put-upon, sarcastic sigh. "Look, it's really hard to describe, but Loki pretty much said it word for word when we picked you up in Turkey. 'I no longer desire this planet,' he said. That shit messes with your mind, Cap, until you don't know what motivation is yours or the Scepter's. I think he was controlled. Maybe still is. I'm going to watch him, but Nat's still watching me, so it doesn't mean I won't work with him." The archer hook his head and shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Thanks, Clint." Steve leaned forward, then stood as he felt the plane settling down. "That does help."

"Why did you ask?" Clint inquired.

"I wanted to know how you healed. What it took."

Clint looked Steve up and down, then started gathering his equipment together again. "Loki asked me that, too. 'How do you know what you want, then?'" The archer shrugged into his bow and frowned up at Steve. "I told him I remember who I was, and that's who I try to be."

That was good advice. Great advice. "You're handling this really well," Steve complimented. "I don't know if I could have forgiven someone that quickly."

"Yeah, I'm an angel. Comms channel six. Hatch opening." The plane was set to hover over them with Natasha ready to carry them away on the rappelling ropes when Steve and Clint needed to leave. This would keep the jet's stealth mode quiet, and the night mission would keep Steve and Clint from being spotted. The target house was really an apartment set in the middle of a long, ancient stone building right in the middle of the city, but luckily away from street lights. They'd go in, gather information, and head out before anyone woke up to the coming dawn.

That was the plan, anyway.

"I'm making two bodies in the structure," Clint whispered through the comm into Steve's ear. He wore night vision goggles that read heat signatures. "No movement."

"Drop in five." Steve readied himself to slide, fastening his helmet securely and checking his shield on its back holster. He'd loaded his guns at the first drop, and they were still at his hips. He nodded to Clint when five seconds had passed, then silently descended.

The city was surrounded by hills that could have passed for small mountains. Steve noted three safe ways to escape from the third floor and five paths away from the building to use in case of emergency before he hit the roof. He felt the familiar excitement and awareness at the potential for battle. He never liked it when people got hurt, but he loved the rush, the high of success, and the chance to vent his pent-up energy.

They hit the roof quietly. Clint took point and Steve acted as backup. They approached edge of the roof and listened through the glass-less windows. Static and silence answered them. Clint knelt along the ledge, listening and watching intently. He also twitched his fingers, as though aching to use sign language.

Steve knew Clint was nearly deaf from his Avengers file. He resolved to learn ASL along with other languages.

Steve didn't like the uncertainty behind silence, but they had to move fast. He faced Clint, consciously moving his lips clearly. "We go in to capture. Quick and quiet. Watch for alarms or traps."

Clint nodded, pulling another coil of rope from his belt. They secured it to an antenna on the roof, tested it, and slung it down between the wide-set windows. Steve was going first this time. He poised on the edge of the clay and took a deep breath.

" _Ready for extraction,_ " Natasha reported in his ear. " _Still two guys in there._ "

Steve leapt backward off the roof and let the rope slide through his hands. He tensed, swung through the window, landing soundlessly and rolling to his feet. Nothing stirred except dust motes.

The smell hit him as soon as he inhaled. Decomposition, early stages, bringing back memories of day-old battlefields, soldiers scattered as far as the eye could see in locations too dangerous for body extraction.

"Dead," Clint observed casually, crossing the floor to where one of the men lay on a cot. He took the pulse, just to be sure, but it was very obvious. Raised a hand to his ear. "We got two corpses, Nat, DOA. Seems like they were killed around the same time as our Comrades."

" _Calling in forensics._ _"_ Natasha sounded businesslike.

Steve felt about the same. He raised his flashlight and started looking around the room. He tried to let his senses rule completely, including intuition, to see if he could detect any magic. Cataloging everything his eyes found, Steve realized this was almost exactly the same as the Siberian house. Two men dead in their beds, killed there almost certainly while they slept. The only difference wast the type of food in their cupboards and the populated area. No sign of a struggle, nothing lingering in the periphery to suggest anything but natural causes.

"What do you think?" Clint asked grimly. "Magic still? How can we identify it?"

"Loki might be able to. Or Darren. Or… Clint, do your goggles have a heat spectrometer camera?"

"Yeah, why?" Clint handed the device over even as he asked.

"Call it a hunch." Steve fiddled with the controls, finding the heat sensor setting and placing them over his eyes.

A black and purple background lit up around the bodies, red and yellow which leaked dregs of slithering, lazy, green and red energy that seemed to dissipate in tiny increments along the edges of the room. Just to be sure, Steve looked out the window and found solid outlines of heat based on regular objects like rocks and electrical lines. This was magic. When he moved his feet, the stuff clung to his shoes like tar.

"Got something?" Clint inquired.

Steve gave him the goggles back. "Proof. Can those take pictures?"

"Jesus Christ." Clint's mouth set into a thin line of disapproval as he scanned the area himself. "Pictures. Yeah." His finger found a button and clicked away.

Steve decided to report their progress. "Natasha, we have traces of magic down here. Contact the Siberia team and have them scan the site for heat signatures." Of course, this magic was probably a day old, just like the Siberian site. Would cold make the magic dissipate more quickly?

" _I sent them the info_ ," Natasha informed them.

There was one person who could possibly answer their questions, even if he wasn't there to witness. Steve pulled his phone from his pocket and found the number easily. He dialed, hoping Loki was holding his phone a little more closely. If this line failed, Elle was the next option.

It rang three times before Loki's voice answered. " _What is it?_ "

Steve appreciated the demigod's professional behavior. "Another crime scene, but this one has clear evidence of magic."

" _What do you mean,_ _'evidence'?_ " He sounded more cautious than interested.

"We used the heat sensors in our night vision goggles and found traces of energy dissipating from the bodies. I'll send the pictures when I'm back on the plane. Looks like—"

"— _Get away from it,_ " Loki interrupted flatly. " _Steve, get on the plane and leave right now._ _"_

"Why?" Steve asked. "The bodies are about a day old, maybe a little more. Whoever did this—"

"— _Is inordinately powerful if their magic has remained this long. You called for my advice. My advice is to leave. Shed whatever you're wearing as well, and wash with clean water as soon as you can. Within the hour."_ Loki sounded urgent now, verging on dangerous.

Steve glanced at Clint, realizing that anything that could make _Loki_ this nervous was probably something two non-magical humans shouldn't be messing around with. "What about the team in Siberia?"

" _Have them send the bodies back after sealing them up to the best of their abilities. Have someone else do the same with these._ "

"Hold on, isn't that just as dangerous for them?" Steve wasn't retreating only to put regular scientists and investigative agents in danger.

" _Considering Tiryaki and his goons targeted you, I would hazard it much less dangerous for anyone else._ "

The logic was sound, but Steve's sense of morality rebelled against it. "I'll be careful. Thanks, Loki."

There was a long moment of silence. " _You take my life in your hands as well, Captain Rogers._ "

"I know." Steve gritted his teeth at the conflict and Loki's distant tone. He was 'Captain Rogers' again, instead of 'Steve'. "I just can't send someone else in here if it's that dangerous."

Silence. Then a deeper, flatter, angry version of Loki's voice drawled, " _It_ _'s no wonder such idiots follow you._ " With that, he ended the call.

Steve stared at the phone, replaying the hostile tone through his mind again and again. He hadn't heard Loki become that angry in… over a week? And he'd switched so quickly from helpful caution to pure rage. Was Elle in danger now? Was anyone else? And who were the 'idiots'? The Avengers? Was that how Loki always felt? Steve resented that immediately, feeling his sense of loyalty stir to retaliate against someone who couldn't even hear him. _Those idiots beat you, didn_ _'t they? So what does that make you?_

"Dangerous?" Clint asked, crossing his arms.

 _Yes,_ Steve's mind replied in frustration. Everything was dangerous. And this thawed super soldier only made it worse.

He set his jaw. It was no use dwelling on something he couldn't control, when his current partners also needed his help. "We'll work fast." He pocketed his phone again and raised a hand to his own ear. "Natasha, drop two body bags and whatever we have that can seal them up."

There was no verbal reply, but a moment later a rope slung the requested items through the window. There were body bags and two thermal wraps from the emergency kit. Steve and Clint worked quickly, wrapping each body in the metallic blankets, then zipping them into the bags.

"So are we gonna get radiation poisoning or what?" Clint queried as they climbed the ropes back up to the jet.

"I… don't think so." Steve couldn't be sure. "We should change on the plane and seal up our clothes, Loki said. Shower ASAP." He hauled himself onto the plane's ramp and brought Clint up as well. "Loki didn't say it was radioactive. He said whoever did it is really powerful, and it was dangerous to stay there."

"I'd believe it. Those guys felt like jelly." Clint shrugged off the danger and his weapons before stripping out of his body armor.

Steve found another body bag ( _Why do the jets have so many of these?_ ) and one more thermal blanket in the supplies cupboard. He stuffed his uniform in there and donned the standard SHIELD extra clothing and a bulletproof vest. Clint did the same with a sigh.

"Good show, boys," Natasha joked, walking out of the cockpit with the slightest grin.

"Loki ordered a strip-tease. Who are we to argue?" Clint joked back. Then they both stiffened slightly and flashed Steve a guilty look.

Steve inwardly rolled his eyes. He'd heard and seen so much worse in the Army. People forgot that all the time, now; for some reason they expected Steve to be a prude. Everyone except Elle and Darren and Tony, who made sexual jokes on occasion if they felt like it. But Steve didn't want to explain himself right then, so he pulled on his most businesslike expression. "What's next?"

"Drones will pick up the bodies in half an hour and take them back to the States. We've got a couple more sources to visit in Europe," Natasha explained. "Skittish sources. I'll visit mine alone, Clint will get his. We'll call you in if we need backup."

Steve nodded. He was there to learn, really, this mission. He could call the shots when he was experienced enough in this time to keep them safe. Until then, he'd do as Fury said and " _follow commands, stick to objectives_." It wasn't so bad. Reminiscent of his bootcamp days, but with more danger and less wheezing.

"About twenty-five minutes to my first one," Natasha continued. "Turkey. I'll land us outside the city and head in on foot. Don't want to spook him or blow his cover. Should take three hours. I'll keep you updated every half hour with the comms."

"Perfect," Clint approved. "This is the one who _likes_ you."

Natasha shot him a grin and batted her eyelashes. "He likes blondes. Good thing I brought my wigs." She grabbed a small backpack and disappeared into the little bathroom.

Clint smirked at Steve for a moment, then gestured to the cockpit. "Copilot duties?"

"Sure." Steve followed him and sank into the comfortable leather chair. He blinked hard a few times to wake himself up and surveyed the controls. "I only flew a plane once."

"Think I read that somewhere in your file," Clint bantered. "I'll teach you how to land. One of these, anyway."

Steve liked Clint. He made light of potentially tense situations and did his job with minimum fuss. "Might be useful."

"Oh, it is," the archer assured him. "Flying's pretty much a breeze, unless you get into a dogfight. Here, take the controls."

Steve did, placing his hands exactly as he saw Clint's.

"Now just hold her steady," Clint continued, letting go of his wheel. "We're low-altitude right now to escape detection. Keep an eye on the altimeter and don't let us go above a thousand feet. And keep the attitude indicator level." He pointed to a ball set in glass that rolled with directions and an indication of how parallel the plane was to the ground.

Steve focused on the task through his weariness. It was easier, flying over land in the dark. Easier in that memories were easy to hold back without the visual of an icy sea. They stayed mostly in the clouds, with Clint giving him directions and the automatic equipment helping to correct small mistakes. It wasn't autopilot exactly, just the plane's AI keeping track of where they were and reporting back to SHIELD via that complex computer just outside the cockpit. The computer also controlled the engine speed and made recommendations based on their noise levels, displayed on a screen in the middle of the control panel.

"Okay. So, to land, we're going to flip on the blades. Slow up and reduce altitude to two hundred feet." Clint's hands went back to his own controls.

Steve did as he was told, and they descended from the clouds shakily. It wasn't the elegant flying Natasha and Clint were capable of, but it didn't feel like they were going to crash.

"A little gentler," Clint advised.

"Breathe through it," Natasha said from over Steve's shoulder.

Steve gritted his teeth and forced a whole breath into his lungs. The clouds parted at four hundred feet, and he could see trees and farms and clearings just barely.

"It's pretty dark. I'll do it this time." Clint took back the controls completely.

Steve took his hands off the wheel and sat back. He was shaking, his muscles tense, heart hammering. Maybe flying at night hadn't helped as much as he'd thought. He watched the ground get closer, now aware of how much skill it took to make this seem effortless.

"That was good, for a second try," Clint encouraged from beside him. "It's really tough to land in the dark. You'll get there in no time."

"You fly much more comfortably than Darren," Natasha added wryly.

Steve glanced up at her and found short blonde hair and strikingly blue eyes crinkled in an unfamiliar full smile. He shook himself out of shock in a second, noticing how soft-looking her clothing was: a coffee-colored jacket over a cream blouse and jeans with softly blue sneakers. He cleared his throat. "Darren likes flying." The younger Stark certainly talked about it enough. Wing strength, metals for the planes, blade speed, engine propulsion, fuel efficiency, techniques for evasion, missile systems.

"Oh yeah, he does," Clint laughed. "He just does everything the 'most efficient' way. Slows down at the last second, turns on a dime. You can hear the wings groaning. Not very reassuring."

That did sound like Darren. Elle had complained about his driving once, when she'd called Steve as Darren was driving her home. _"We're not late for anything; you don't have to drive like a maniac._ " He'd never known what that meant until now.

"Anyway, we're here." The jet touched down in a small clearing surrounded by needled trees. Clint turned to Natasha to report. "One mile from the city, three from your contact's house. Channel thirteen?"

Natasha held her finger to her ear. "Thirteen secured." She headed back into the cabin and picked up a small purse to sling over her shoulder.

Steve and Clint followed her out. Steve was just along for the ride at this point, learning more about his teammates than about the mission. He noticed how Natasha moved more awkwardly, like she was unsure of herself, even though her eyes clearly caught everything around her.

She flashed them another beaming smile as the hatch descended. "Keep the engines warm."

The smile was meant to be inviting, and to someone who didn't know the Black Widow, it probably was. But it sent a shiver down Steve's spine as another level of danger was added to his mental estimation of Natasha Alianova Romanova. He felt a little sorry for her source, whoever they were.

"Thirty minutes," Clint called as she jogged down the ramp and into the woods.

She waved affirmation and started sprinting into the trees.

"Well." Clint closed the hatch and crossed his arms with a sigh. "Now we play the waiting game. Unless you like poker?"

Steve gave him a small grin and shook his head. "I lose."

Clint nodded. "You're a bad liar. Should get some rest while we're on the ground, too. I'll keep watch."

Steve wanted to protest, but he knew Clint was right. The problem was his body, really. Tense and alert for anything amiss, any sign of danger. Also worried about fighting with Loki, now. But maybe he could catch a few winks while they waited for Natasha's check-ins. "Thanks. I'll try."

"I'll be in the cockpit. Transmissions will come through there. If anything happens, I'll fly us in and you can extract Nat."

"Alright." Steve would be able to hear the messages without the whine of the engines and the roar of wind. He sat down and watched Clint leave and his shadow settle into the pilot's seat.

He let his head fall back against the seat, the pressure to be Captain America momentarily gone. Steve's eyes slipped closed without any coaxing, burning with weariness. He crossed his arms, habitually settling his right hand against his shield beside him. He hoped the magic hadn't actually affected him or Clint negatively. There wasn't much chance of a shower, and he couldn't part with his shield on a mission.

He kept circling back to Loki's caution that had turned quickly into rage. What had sparked that? Loki hadn't minded so much when Steve had insisted on accompanying him to meet with Tiryaki, and magic had been involved there. Was Loki worried about protecting him? Was there more that the demigod hadn't mentioned at play? Thor's stories of his brother back on the helicarrier had mentioned how Loki didn't work well in teams.

 _But he worked with_ us _,_ his thoughts protested. _The science, the magic_ _… He had fun. Didn't he? Was it an act?_ Loki's cooperation had seemed sincere, and so had his annoyance with Tony and Bruce when they didn't understand what he was saying. It had seemed like a step in the right direction. And that night with the videogames, Loki had really opened up about magic on Asgard in general. After that, he'd stayed in the hospital with Elle, talking about inane things, and he'd visited the farm and relaxed.

 _And all those times included you taking what he wanted into account._

Maybe Loki felt snubbed. Maybe he really thought Steve would have died, and was angry about the possibility of his own death. Steve hadn't explained his own reasoning very well over the phone, only that he was doing exactly what he'd been told not to, even after Loki reminded him of the risk. That would be… more than frustrating. Like when Elle jumped off Jet's back. But Steve hadn't had the reassurance of a dragon's wings to catch him.

 _So much for that nap._ There was no way he could sleep now, with all the possibilities crowding his brain. Steve sighed and opened his eyes, assessing the quiet quinjet and checking the time. Only an hour had passed since Natasha had left. The radio had crackled twice in the cockpit, and Clint had answered.

Steve got up and headed to the bathroom where he splashed water on his face and vigorously washed his hands and forearms, trying to rid himself of the other magic as much as possible. Maybe if he presented himself as safe and not-spelled Loki would calm down when he got home.

Or maybe Steve had ruined his recovery.

 _Peggy calls you dramatic for a reason_ , his mind supplied with a twist of self-deprecation.

Steve shook his head at the thought and went into the cockpit, greeting Clint with a question. "Natasha alright?"

"As ever," Clint said cryptically, looking Steve up and down. "You didn't sleep at all."

Steve shrugged. "Jittery on a plane, I guess."

Clint frowned, but didn't pursue it. "Sounds like Nat will be back early. She didn't have to convince her source to share as much as usual."

"That's good." Steve picked up the tablet sitting in the copilot's seat and opened up the communication log, reading over what she'd found. It looked like this source knew very little about Tiryaki, but he'd learned a lot about Yumruk's goals: sewing dissent and terrorizing people with biological weapons. They'd recruited minor chemists and biologists for after-hours work so they wouldn't draw the government's eye. The operation Steve had stalled was to have been their first strike ever— a test of everything they'd built. The group had been dangerous because they'd been patient.

"They were smart," Clint commented, echoing Steve's musings. "Would have seriously fucked up a lot of people with that attack."

"They _were_ smart," Steve agreed, ignoring the cursing. "So why did Tiryaki fly in after just a few days?"

It was Clint's turn to shrug. "Normally? I'd say revenge makes people stupid. But you're right; he really half-assed his attack. He didn't have time to get a source in Saint Mary's…"

Steve thought back to his time in the facility. They'd wanted to observe him for a few more days before letting him go. SHIELD had kept guards outside the empty room for that duration, Hill had reported, to throw off any trail to Iowa. To all observers, it would have looked like Steve was still there.

They'd been at the farm for three full days— four days, if one counted the road trip to get there. The guards had stayed outside as cover for as long as possible, but waiting any longer to discharge him would have been suspicious.

Steve pulled up information on the people killed in the attack. Sure enough, ten of them had been discharged at eight o'clock. The others consisted of their family members, a couple people waiting for emergency treatment, and staff.

 _Tiryaki was aiming for me._ Not for psychological effect, but to literally hit Steve as he left. Discharges occurred in the morning, typically, as the doctors made their rounds. Tiryaki had timed his attack to get Steve and whoever was with him as they finally went home.

"Cap? Want to share with the class before you crack the tech?"

Steve looked down and found his white-knuckled fingers threatening the tablet's screen. "Tiryaki timed the attack to get to me on the day I was supposed to be discharged."

Clint's eyes widened, then darted to the windshield as he processed that theory. "You're right. But," he scowled, "it was a terrible plan. He only hit one entrance, and you could have left from anywhere at any time. There's nothing set in stone. He could have missed you, easy, even if you were there."

Steve sighed and felt the guilt begin to gnaw. This was worse than a random attack staged at a location Steve had once been. These people had died _because_ of him, directly. If he'd known this before, he probably would have gone through the one-way glass and smeared Tiryaki all over the inside of the interrogation room when he had chance.

 _Oh, yeah. I_ _'m the last person who should talk to Loki about anger._

"It's not your fault," Clint commented, sounding much calmer than Steve felt. "And besides, you caught him. Maybe we can get to his partner because of it."

Clint was right, of course. Steve shoved his anger down for later use and listened to the archer's wisdom. "Have you contacted your electronic sources yet?"

"I sent out feelers. Sometimes it takes a day or so for them to respond. My sources are mostly on the level— agents from other agencies, military personnel, people like that. They have to encrypt the files and send them from an off-site computer when they can get there. They also decide whether they owe me enough favors to risk getting made."

Steve thought about that. "And Natasha's sources?"

Clint grinned. "She doesn't describe them much, but they're usually quicker to respond. They work on a mutual basis of not selling each other out."

Steve felt himself relax ever-so-slightly into humor at that statement. Natasha was a force to be reckoned with, that was certain. Her sources must have come from her pre-SHIELD affiliations. "I'm glad you two can sniff around like this. I know I'm not much help."

"You'll get there." Clint grinned wryly. "If you survive without sleep like this, you'll have tons of time to make new friends. Lots of sleep also helped me recover, by the way. Loki getting his forty winks?"

Steve shrugged, mentally wincing at that problem waiting for him at home. "Not yesterday, I know. Day before, actually. I think he and Elle got maybe three hours. Hopefully they're resting up now."

"I had nightmares, too, the first few nights. They seemed really real. You should watch for that." Clint seemed more open now, possibly excited to get out on his own for some field work. "They faded pretty quickly, considering."

"That's good." Steve filed the information away and felt his chest tug in sympathy for what the other man must have been through. "I'm sorry…" he began, realizing how empty words were in comparison to the mental torture. And Steve had been part of the duo who brought Loki back to Earth. "… that you had to experience that."

Clint shifted uncomfortably. "It is what it is. I don't like to dwell on it. We got a magic guy out of it to fight this other magic guy, so… It all evens out, I guess."

Steve knew a rationalization when he heard one. He also knew Clint wanted to drop the subject. "Any more advice?"

The radio crackled to life then. _"On my way back. ETA ten minutes._ "

"Roger that," Clint responded easily. Then he sat back and scratched his head. "I don't really have a mind control recovery plan. I just play it by ear. I'll let you know if I think of anything else."

"Thanks." Steve was appreciating this part of the team more and more. He recalled Clint's previous words. "So you talked while I was down for the count?"

"Not for long," Clint said. "Just what I told you about. Where are you, progress-wise?"

Too late, Steve remembered that Clint Barton was a SHIELD agent first and foremost, and whatever he heard, Fury was guaranteed to know about. "It's tough to give an estimate," Steve hedged. "It's only been a couple weeks now."

"Yeah," Clint agreed, seeming not to notice Steve's avoidance. "I think he seems more relaxed around you two. How'd he handle Elle's farm?"

This was probably pretty safe, since nothing bad had happened there. "He helped repair their pasture fences."

"Really? I couldn't picture him as a manual laborer."

"He worked fast," Steve continued, recalling the first afternoon when Loki had acted as a buffer against Alan Hansen's goading. "He saved us from getting struck by lightning."

"Really? When was that a problem?"

Steve gave him a pared-down version of the story, ending with Elle getting her ass kicked into the mud. "And her aunt cut his hair because it was… fried."

"I wondered where that fashion choice came from." Clint laughed to himself for a moment.

The hatch hummed open and Natasha returned, unruffled, tossing a flash drive through the open doorway into Steve's hands and heading into the bathroom without a word.

"Guess it went well," Clint mused, taking off immediately. "I'll fly this time. It's only fifteen minutes to Germany from here if I blast the engines."

"Great." Steve stayed where he was to watch how the archer handled the plane. Most of what Clint did seemed reflexive, thoughtless, simple. It spoke of years of practice.

Natasha emerged when they were five minutes away, packing her disguise away, back in her normal SHIELD gear. She didn't say anything, but she held out her hand for the flash drive and plugged it into the communications hub behind the cockpit.

Clint dropped them out of the clouds smoothly, right into a little abandoned parking lot along a highway. "Only two miles from here for me. Let Nat pilot if I need an extraction. Should be fine, though." He shed his bulletproof vest, pulled jeans from his bag, and tucked a gun away in the back of his pants, his only obvious weapon.

"Stay safe." Steve gave the order with ease and a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Bye, Nat." Clint nodded at his partner as she came out of the bathroom. "Testing channel thirteen."

"Thirteen secure," Natasha confirmed. "Two hours."

"Two hours." Clint jogged away at a slower pace, fading into the trees right away in his dark clothing.

Natasha closed the hatch and rerouted the jet's communications to the cabin and cockpit both at the little control panel across from the bathroom. "Chess, Rogers?"

"Sure." Steve could pass the time getting to know her better, he hoped. She had a lot of layers. Complicated ones that she controlled like a real spider's web.

Natasha tapped the floor with her foot and a little table rose to hip level. She got a cube out of her backpack and unfolded it to reveal a miniature chess set complete with black and white pieces. "I call black."

"Alright." Steve sat down, setting the white pieces up on his side of the board. "This what you do for a waiting game?"

"When I can." With Clint gone, she'd retreated into a shell that showcased exactly what she wanted known: politeness laced with challenge.

Steve accepted the challenge. He made his first move. "I didn't play much back in the day. We played cards more often. It was portable."

Natasha moved her pawn without looking at it. "This board was a gift from Pepper Potts. She had it specially made."

Steve pushed a knight aggressively into place. "I still haven't met her. Elle says she's busy running Stark Industries."

"She is." Another move without a glance.

Steve considered the board. She could have captured his knight last time, but she'd made more of a move to keep her own pieces safe. He pressed with a pawn. "When did you meet her? Working with Tony?"

Natasha looked at the board for the first time, a passing glance. "You could say that."

"Spying on Tony?" Steve guessed. Tony and Darren both gave SHIELD a wide berth when it came to their own tech. It would take a superior agent to break through that sort of suspicion, and he'd just seen effortless superiority from this woman.

"Keeping an eye out," Natasha acknowledged, moving again. She still didn't capture any of his pieces, all defense.

Steve took his chance to take her first pawn. "I guess we really are all on threat lists."

Natasha's ghost grin came back, her eyes cast down at the pieces. "That bother you?"

"Depends," Steve decided.

"On?"

"On what they do with the lists." He caught two more of her pawns.

"Mostly, SHIELD keeps you off other peoples' lists," Natasha informed him in a rare show of openness. That was just what it was: a show.

Steve knew she was SHIELD through and through. "I guess the only lists I used to worry about were Hydra's. Now I have to figure out who the new enemy is." _And whether SHIELD deals with them or not._ Because an organization this large could easily hide moles of all colors. Because Steve had two other people relying on him now, sometimes more. Because SHIELD acted with impunity in foreign affairs, and innocent people had already been hurt.

"Let me know if you spot any." In one move, Natasha captured his queen and toppled his king. "Checkmate."

Steve had more or less expected this outcome. "You should play Loki sometime."

"I'm sure I will." She took her pieces back and set them up again. "Another round?"

They fell into silence over the board. Steve concentrated on her game strategies, only speaking to reply to Clint's reports. Natasha was a true chameleon— she could be defensive one moment, and that defense could hide an offense as quick as a snake's strike. Or her offenses could distract him from her true objectives. Steve won twice in three hours, but he suspected it was because she wanted to observe how he handled himself in every situation. He lost five more times.

"Good to see you missed me," Clint remarked when he walked back in in the middle of their last match. "How many times did she beat you, Cap?"

"Six," Steve answered readily. "Looks like it's about to be seven."

"She's a hustler." Clint donned his vest again and got the jet underway. "France, Nat?"

"France," she agreed, finishing the game and packing up in one motion.

Steve handed her his pieces, feeling like he'd been played in more ways than one. There was just no way to understand Natasha unless she wanted to be understood. And then, she only showed you what she wanted you to see and nothing else. He'd gotten too used to Loki's sullen remarks and rudeness and Elle's open comments. Steve was no hand at real spying.

"Fifteen minutes out," Clint reported when Steve leaned in the doorway of the cockpit. "This one shouldn't take long. We'll hover and drop her on a roof, and circle overhead until she's done."

"This source is more open," Natasha agreed. "It'll only take as long as their computer lags."

Steve just listened, nodding along. He stepped aside so Natasha could pull another wig— long, brunette verging on black, straight— from her backpack, along with black flats, aviator sunglasses, and a blue jacket. She also popped a piece of gum into her mouth and adopted a slouching, carefree air before she rolled out of the jet and onto the rooftop without batting an eye.

Steve took the copilot's seat to wait, listening to the open comm for this mission. Natasha greeted her contact in perfect, enthusiastic French. Door closed and keys tapped. Directives were given, typed out, and a printer whirred.

"This one's a journalist," Clint said offhand. "Nat gives her leads sometimes on breaking stories before anyone else has them. She gets the first public accounts."

 _That_ _'s a good way to control the media coverage_ , Steve noted grimly. He wasn't naive enough anymore to expect the press to be completely truthful. Anymore, they seemed sensationalist: anything shiny or destroyed caught their eye, and they focused on that with unwavering intensity. "And in return, Natasha gets her leads."

"It's a symbiotic relationship," Clint confirmed. He eyed Steve closely. "Something wrong?"

"Just seems like SHIELD has their fingers in a lot of pies for as small as the organization is supposed to be." Controlling things from behind the scenes wasn't Steve's way. Neither was being passive-aggressive. He liked to state his grievances as he felt them in real time.

"Must seem that way." Clint nodded in understanding as Natasha asked for information regarding Yumruk and biological weapons on the market and potential supervillains. "I can see why you don't like it. But it takes all kinds, Cap. Since I've been here, we've definitely helped more than we've hurt."

"How long?" Steve asked.

"Twelve years now. Nat's been with us for seven of those. When I started, I was a lot like you— I thought we should be more public, warn people about impending threats." The archer's eyes went distant.

"What happened?" Steve asked.

"I saw it happen." Clint chewed his lip for a second. "The things we fight… normal people can't hope to defend against them. And if we warned everyone, we might spook our targets. I'm not saying it's always the right thing, what we do. I'm saying it's more efficient, in my experience. A lot less panic, a lot easier to clean up."

Steve thought about his most recent experience with this sort of covert operation. Even if they'd warned the general public about Tiryaki, he probably would still have found a way to set off that bomb. And any civilian who tried to approach him would have likely been hit with the magic or the robots or something worse. And anyway, Steve, Loki, and Eleanore had kept information to themselves as well in order to carry out an uninhibited capture. "I'm not trying to cast doubts on your work, Clint. Guess I'm still just cautious."

"Caution's good. Keeps you on your toes. Keeps you alive, I bet, in this time."

Natasha was wrapping things up, thanking her source and saying something about France's government officially increasing national security because of the spike in terrorist activity in Europe. She left the room with a click of the door, and climbed the stairs audibly. "Ready for extraction."

Clint flew them back around and settled the plane right above the roof so she could leap into the invisible structure. "On to England!" he called as he pulled them forward.

Steve realized Clint had missed a short nap while Natasha was away in order to talk to him. He couldn't offer much, though. He didn't trust himself to pilot, and he didn't know where they were going anyway. Instead he abandoned the cockpit and let Natasha take his place, listening as they monitored Air Traffic Control to make sure the jet wasn't spotted.

It was a very short flight to England. They landed, cloaked, on a moor outside a little hamlet.

"Nat and I are both going for this one," Clint informed Steve. He pulled a red t-shirt from his pack and donned sneakers and a baseball cap. Natasha let her natural hair fall around her face, but put her brown jacket back on, along with a wide yellow cloth headband and some pink lipstick. In moments, they were different people.

"You want me to fly in to extract you?" Steve asked, worried.

"Shouldn't need extraction from this one," Clint assured him. "That's why you're coming with us."

 _Me?_ "I don't have a disguise."

"Yes you do." Natasha handed over a small duffel bag from under the bench seat.

Steve unzipped it and found clothing in his size: a black sweater, a steel gray t-shirt, blue jeans, tennis shoes (the exact brand he already had), socks, underwear. "Could have told me this before I got the SHIELD stuff on."

"More fun this way," Clint joked. "Also, I didn't know about it."

Natasha shot him a grin. "Dress up, Cap. We can be home in seven hours if we play our cards right."

Steve shrugged his modesty away and stripped quickly, tugging on the clothing that fit like a tailor-made dream. He left the sweater unzipped. Natasha gave him sunglasses from Clint's bag, and Clint handed him one of his guns.

"We're tourists," Natasha informed Steve seriously, slipping a sparkling ring onto her left hand. "Our bus leaves here at four PM from the town pub. That's where we meet if things go south. You're an American graduate student taking the summer off to study architecture in Europe. Clint and I are on our honeymoon. I'm Natalie Rushman, and he's John. You choose your name, it'll help you remember."

"James," Steve decided immediately. His heart twinged a little at Bucky's real name, but he knew he'd recognize it. "James King." George King had been one of their on-again, off-again friends in Brooklyn until he'd been drafted first thing in the war.

"Good. Not too generic." Natasha nodded approval.

"We've got a half mile trek to the house. If anyone asks, we're out for a walk before breakfast and we're not used to the time change yet," Clint added. "People are cautious of strangers around here. Act open and friendly, give them a smile. If they get to personal, ask questions about them. How long have they lived here, how old is that house."

"Don't hesitate," Natasha broke in. "When in doubt, tell a version of the truth."

 _Is that what you do?_ Steve wondered, feeling a bit overwhelmed. Instead of being snide, he tried for clearer information. "Who are we meeting with, exactly?"

"David Hall. Ex MI6, terrorist division. Well, semi-retired now. He keeps up. He and I worked a few missions together in my first couple years at SHIELD. He lives in a manor house up the road. Pretty friendly, if you approach him right."

So this was more of a test, a trial run. Clint and Natasha were watching Steve and seeing how he reacted to new situations and new people. Seeing how he'd interrogate a stranger.

Well. He could do this.

"Ready?" Clint asked as Steve finished tying his new tennis shoes.

"Yep." Steve donned his sunglasses and followed them out onto the sunny moor, heading for a footpath that wound back toward a stone wall and a road. The spring morning smelled amazing. The sun was just a hint of gray over the hills, now at five AM local time. Steve let himself drink it in, like a regular tourist would. He noticed Natasha and Clint walking closely like a couple, so he gave them enough distance off to the side. He also looked at the stone wall, which might or might not be older than Loki.

"Learning things for your designs?" Natasha asked him as they reached the road. She sounded completely unfamiliar, playful, and even a little flirty.

Steve was sort of prepared for this. Elle sometimes watched shows on HGTV, which mostly consisted of couples redesigning or buying houses. "Yeah, the fitted stone design is really popular among residential homeowners now. They want something that will stand the test of time."

Clint raised his eyebrows. "Think you could make us a little cabin in the woods?"

Steve grinned, although it felt forced. "Think you can pay my fee?"

The two assassins laughed so naturally, Steve almost let himself feel good about the joke.

"Oh, what's this, honey?" Natasha asked, stopping at a divergent gravel lane.

"Looks like a nice place to walk to me," Clint said pretty loudly.

Steve avoided the inclination to glance around and make sure no one was watching them. "We have plenty of time before breakfast. We can explore a little."

They took off down the lane, which was covered by old trees whose limbs cut out the sky. Pebbles crunched underfoot, turns revealed new boulders and a small creek. After a short while, Steve could see the secluded manor house. A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair was outside watering potted plants.

"David!" Clint called out as soon as he spotted him.

David Hall straightened immediately into a military stance. His hand strayed to his side, but Steve couldn't see a weapon there. Then again, an MI6 agent would be great at hiding a gun.

The man squinted at them through the early morning light and recognition lit his face. "Rushman! I wish you'd call first, just once. I've got nothing on."

They reached the house gate and Mr. Hall let them in with only a cursory glance at Steve and Natasha.

"Sorry," Clint apologized unabashedly. "My friends and I were in the area. I wanted to see if we could find your house. Natalie here has a few questions about gardening."

"You're in luck. Gardening is my area of expertise. Come in, come in." Mr. Hall led them into a back entryway made of stone tile and plaster, and from there into a kitchen. "This is the infamous wife I've heard so much about, eh?"

"Charmed." Natasha gave a winning smile and shook Hall's hand.

"And this is Mr. King," Clint introduced Steve. "He's an old friend."

"Pleased to meet you," Steve said, trying to imitate Natasha's easy manner. But when he met Halls' brown eyes, he saw the weathered, hard look of a former soldier who'd seen far too much for a lifetime.

"Likewise," Hall said with a half-grin. He ventured over to his kitchen's island and pulled a control panel from one drawer. Tapping out a code, he glanced up and around as window shades lowered automatically and the doors of the house slammed shut. "There," he said, "now we can speak freely. Why are you here, Barton?"

"Information," Clint said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "King here got hit by a terrorist group called Yumruk right before they all went to ground. I'm sure you heard about it."

Hall's eyes widened and he took Steve in again in a glance. "Let me rephrase my greeting, Mr. King. It's an honor to meet you."

Steve shrugged off the obvious recognition. "Thank you. We're looking for any leads we can find on the leader Tiryaki's affiliates."

"Your lot have him in holding." Hall wasn't asking. He considered the granite slab countertop seriously. "It's a newer group. From my sources, I've heard they're done for. Two dead in Siberia yesterday."

"We're rounding up the bodies," Clint told him. "Two more in Oman."

"Hm. No known cause of death, I heard." Hall was asking now, cautiously.

"Our people have seen this cause before." Clint pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it to Hall. "You're not gonna like it."

"Boiled?" Hall asked, confused, examining the heat-vision image.

"It's strictly confidential, Hall," Clint cautioned him.

"Meaning my government's probably found it and buried it alive." Hall nodded. "Go on, then."

Clint shifted uncomfortably. "It's magic."

"Oh, bugger off." Hall lost his composure, laughing and setting the phone down on the counter. "Magic terrorists? Were they killed by the Tooth Fairy?"

"No," Steve said. "We don't know who killed them. All we know is that this is magic, and someone killed four men at the same time from halfway across the globe."

Hall quieted, taking Steve seriously. "But… really? How do you know it's magic?"

"Resident experts," Clint supplied. "I'm sure you'll learn about them soon enough."

Hall believed them now. He huffed a sigh. "That Darren Stark rumor's true, then. And you've got a dragon. Or is that your magician's doing?"

"Can't talk about it right now," Clint told him regretfully. "Your sources will have the news when the rest of the world does, if not before. But Hall, we need leads on this. This one can kill anyone anywhere."

"Like Saint Mary's Hospital in DC?" Hall leaned on the island with one arm. "Of course that's how they bloody did it," he muttered to himself. "We've had scientists analyzing secondhand data for days now, and you come here and tell me it's _magic_ …" He trailed off and rubbed his eyes. "Barton, you really bring the circus with you."

Clint chuckled at that. "You haven't even seen the opening act."

"But we will. The world will." Hall met Steve's eyes again and steeled himself. "Alright, then. Yumruk's not a threat anymore, not on anyone's watchlist. They hit the water and fizzled before they made a splash. Perhaps kidnapping Captain America had something to do with that, eh?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Maybe. But Tiryaki found someone else to work with. What have you got on that?"

"We knew he was in DC, but so did you," Hall began. "Once he was there, we only tracked his movements via satellite. Thought perhaps he'd lead us to a larger scheme. All we found was a homeless population under one of the overpasses. That's where he found his mule, and someone to act like him for a few free meals. After that, he didn't leave his hotel room at all, not once, until the bomb went off. But he made several calls from an alternative room he'd booked under another disguised alias: Roger Stevens. He used a homeless man for that one, and a forged credit card."

"Who did he call?" Steve pressed, ignoring the play on his name. He'd already known Tiryaki was an obsessed maniac.

"Several numbers, but the same voice answered every time. Garbled, you know, unrecognizable as a person." Hall held up a finger. "Wait here a moment. I'll bring you a recording." He left the room, the door swinging after him to show a dining room.

"Guess my source paid off. Literally. Did we say fifty bucks?" Clint asked Natasha smugly from his seat.

"Only if he gives good information," Natasha said icily.

Of course they'd bet on their sources. This was nothing more than a game to them right now, since there was nothing to fight. Steve shook his head in mute exasperation, wishing he'd gotten a few hours sleep to deal with these two. They might be more experienced in the spy game, but they still seemed like kids.

"Here we are," Hall said, returning with a laptop and a flash drive in hand. He held up the flash drive and threw it to Clint. "You can keep that one. We've been through it more times than I care to count. Haven't shared it yet, though SHIELD might have found it by now."

"Thanks." Clint didn't indicate whether SHIELD had found it or not. Steve was guessing not from the way Natasha eyed the device.

"So here's a quick preview," Hall continued, opening his laptop and clicking the play button on an audio file.

They all leaned forward imperceptibly to hear it.

" _Location affirmed_ ," Tiryaki said.

" _Package en route. Arrival at midnight Eastern time_." This voice was garbled, just as Hall had warned them. It was deepened and static clung to each syllable. It also sounded faintly metallic, like whoever it was was standing in an empty metal room.

 _Shipping container? Warehouse? Ship? Train car? Submarine? Aircraft carrier? Plane?_ Steve's mind gave him so many possibilities, but no real solutions. It could also just be an effect of the vocal scrambler.

" _It will be done at nine AM local time,_ " Tiryaki stated.

" _As you will._ " The voice was emotionless even more than Natasha could be.

" _Certainly. Enjoy the show._ "

Was it a robot? Was it a recording? A computer with set replies?

At any rate, the call ended with a click and they were left in the quiet kitchen.

"That's all I have for you, I'm afraid," Hall said resignedly. "I do wish I could do more to catch this bastard. I'll have my lot keep a lookout for… magical heat signatures." He seemed incredibly uncomfortable with that.

"Thanks, Hall. We'll leave you in peace. Updates to follow." Clint shook the man's hand and started for the door. Natasha followed with a nod.

"Thank you," Steve said sincerely, taking the rear.

"I'll walk you out," Hall said. "As I said, it's an honor. Here." He stopped Steve right before they went back outside, holding out a card. "To reach me in a pinch. It pays to have allies in this field, Captain."

Steve gave him a small grin. "Sure does. Thank you. Stay safe."

"Think I'll head into work this afternoon, actually," Hall told him, hands on his hips in the garden. "I have a lot of new gardening tips. Let me know if you find any interesting new varieties." He gave a meaningful smile. "These summer roses are my favorite."

"See you, you old pansy," Clint said with a laugh. He put an arm around Natasha. "See honey? Wasn't that worth the extra time?"

"It sure was," Natasha giggled, looking back at Steve. "Did you get some ideas from the house?"

"I did," Steve confirmed, following them back up the lane.

The walk to the jet was uneventful, except for when Hall drove past like a bat out of hell, bent for London or bust.

Steve watched the car speeding around the curving road until it was out of sight. _Semi-retired, my ass._

They trouped onto the plane. It was already nearly seven o' clock in the morning in England. It really would be late at night by the time they got back home, assuming they didn't have any stops along the way. The jet stream would slow them down, Steve suspected, so he added another half hour to his three hour estimate of the trip.

"Want to fly us home?" Clint asked from the door of the cockpit. "I'll teach you how to take off."

"Sure, yeah." Steve took the pilot's chair and listened to detailed instructions regarding the rotary blades and forward propulsion while hovering. It was fairly straightforward, so he had them in the air in no time.

The trip was set to be a long one. Instead of autopilot, Steve opted to get a feel for the controls by flying all the way. Clint made sure he was comfortable and checked the weather report before he headed back to grab something to eat.

From twenty-five thousand feet, the ocean looked calm. Steve focused until he could see the whitecaps breaking over shallow points. Cumulus clouds gathered ahead, but nothing more than droplets whipped past the windshield. Steve learned how to rely on the altimeter, GPS, and attitude indicator when he couldn't see the horizon anymore.

"You heard anything new from Eleanore?" Clint asked casually, taking the copilot's seat again.

"She said Steve hasn't been replying," Natasha remarked in passing on her way to the bathroom.

 _Shit._ Steve switched on autopilot and pulled his phone from his pocket to find the battery completely drained. It had been days since he'd charged it.

"Here, I brought one." Clint tossed a cable over from his 'go-bag'.

"Thanks." Steve found an outlet and plugged the phone in. It took a moment to power up, and when it did, it vibrated for a good minute with lots of messages from every team member back home, except for Loki.

 _I really need to learn to remember to check this thing._

Steve scrolled through the messages from each person. Elle was on top of the list, with the most messages and the most recent correspondence. _"You left your sketch book in my apartment. It's on your bookshelf now." "You're almost out of peanut butter. I used it to make thumbprint cookies. We're going to the store today so I'll get you some. Text anything else you can think of." "You didn't text, so I got you peanut butter, milk, eggs, and bread."_ Then there was a picture of Charlie curled up in a small box with the explanation, _"Got some more books, and Charlie claimed the box." "My mom says hi." "Peggy was having a good day. I told her about you again. She says she's proud of you, and also that you're over-dramatic." "The scientists questioned Loki a lot about magic and stuff today at the SHIELD lab again. Loki doesn't like them. I'm neutral toward them— they're kids, and they rarely speak to me." "Loki says magic can track you in a spell, but he can't track someone just because they have magic. His exact words were, 'I'm not a scent hound.'" "Darren said he texted you without a response. I told him that's normal."_ And, finally _,_ hours later, _"Your phone died, didn't it?"_

Steve grinned to himself and replied quickly. _"It did, sorry. Thanks for the updates. Should be home in three or four hours."_ He didn't mind the constant connection to his team, even if it was disconcerting. It was nice to know someone was thinking of him, waiting for him to come back.

Next up was Tony. _"Your demigod knows his shit, magic-wise. Stop by the lab when you get back." "Elle says you probably let your phone die. I've got a new longer-lasting model for you, Captain Cave Man." "Let me know if you find any affiliations with a group called 'Ten Rings'."_

Steve frowned at that. Was he supposed to know about the "Ten Rings?" He mentally shrugged and texted back, " _Nothing on_ _'Ten Rings.' I'll stop by the lab when I'm back in D.C. Thanks for the new phone in advance."_

Bruce was next on the list, with one text: " _We_ _'ve got some data that shows magic can cling to people/things. Requesting you to come in for testing. Eleanore already showed traces from being around Loki and probably Darren and Jet. Will explain more in person."_

That one made sense. Steve had been 'spelled' or something just days ago. He wondered if the traces had worn off by now. In any case, he responded to Bruce. _"Will come in for testing. Thanks for the information."_

Replying to everyone was tough, especially since Steve knew they were probably talking to each other as he sent each message. But no, he mentally checked the time zones and found that it would be past midnight in D.C. and New York again. So he was probably waking them all up, except for Tony.

The only one left was Darren, also a single message sent half a day before. " _I need a favor. Call when you can. Don_ _'t tell Eleanore."_

That one was intriguing. Steve dialed, regardless of time, and listened to the phone ring five times before a groggy voice answered it. "Darren?"

" _Steve? Hey, what's up?"_ Darren wasn't the easiest person to wake up. Steve had also found him to be absentminded on a good day. That combination resulted in a good-natured, helpful man who often forgot what anyone said to him moments after the interaction. Elle repeated herself a lot and reminded him of things, and Darren would tell Steve the same piece of information five or six times in a day because he didn't remember who he'd told. Because of this, Steve would never forget that circuit boards couldn't have data lines running through a power supply.

"You told me to call you. You need a favor?" Steve reminded him patiently.

" _Oh yeah._ " Once Darren remembered, he was pretty much set. " _Do you have a car?_ _"_

"No, I don't."

" _Good. Can you test a car I designed for a few months? It_ _'s safety-featured through the roof, and it's really efficient. Big enough for five people to sit comfortably— I can send you a picture."_

"It's fine," Steve assured him. "I'll test it out. But why don't you have Elle do it? She could give you better information, right?"

" _She could,_ _"_ Darren agreed honestly, " _if she didn_ _'t have this rule about me not giving her expensive things. We had to put off a trip to New Zealand because she wants to save up for souvenirs and expenses. I tried with the car, and she said hers is perfectly fine."_

That sounded about right. Steve hadn't noticed a conflict over it, but Elle did pay for her own things. "So I'm a buffer here."

" _I said it was a favor,_ " Darren pointed out. " _She_ _'ll figure it out, anyway. I guarantee it._ "

Steve grinned. "Where do I pick the car up?"

" _It's already registered with Mrs. Hirsch under your name, parked next to your bike. Pepper actually suggested it. Thanks, Steve."_

 _I really need to meet this Pepper,_ Steve thought. Out loud, he said, "It's not a problem. Thanks for the car."

" _So_ _…"_ Darren hedged, uncomfortable now, " _how are things?_ _"_

"Things are fine. We're going to be home soon." Steve was used to this forced politeness from the younger Stark. Darren didn't do pleasantries very well, and he wouldn't remember what Steve responded with anyway. Elle said he was like Sherlock Holmes, a little bit. Forgetting everything, buried in his own thoughts. But Darren was a lot kinder than Steve's literary impression of Holmes. "Are you in New York?"

" _Got back tonight. Heading to D.C. again tomorrow in my suit to talk to the scientists again. Loki_ really _doesn_ _'t like them, you know."_

"I've heard." Steve was amused and unsurprised. "What's wrong with them?"

" _Elle says they act too young. I think they just don_ _'t give magic enough credit."_ Darren yawned audibly, which people did in modern times without trying to cover it up.

Steve still took the hint. "I'll see you there, then. Goodnight."

" _Night. Have a good trip._ _"_

Steve hung up and noted that his phone was already back up to fifty percent. At least it charged quickly. A moment later, a picture came through from Darren. It showed a short SUV-type car that looked like it was mixed with a racing vehicle. Low-profile, large storage space. Dark gray paint job, which seemed to be Darren's signature, with chrome accents. Steve privately thought it was a little ugly, with sharp edges and covered headlights, but he wasn't about to tell Darren that.

Instead, he texted his thanks again and left his phone to charge on its own. He went back to flying the plane and telling Clint about the updates. Natasha came forward for that part, listening intently like a silent shadow. When he was done talking, the sky had darkened completely and they were flying below a multitude of stars. Clint put his feet up on the top panel and promptly fell asleep, telling Steve to wake him for a Triskelion drop. In another half hour, the East Coast's lights gleamed on the horizon.

Steve woke Clint up for the Triskelion stop, which Natasha orchestrated. The archer took their sealed clothing with him to deliver to the lab. Then Natasha flew Steve home, saying she had some business to take care of with the jet before she was done. That's all she would say, even when Steve offered to help with her 'business.' She said he could give his report tomorrow when he came in to the Triskelion with Elle and Loki. He suspected more sources closer to home.

The plane dropped him on the foggy rooftop at 3:50 AM. Because of the haze, the city was shrouded in clammy darkness. The breeze caused droplets to hit his face with the scent of trees, asphalt, exhaust, and food.

Steve surveyed the blurry lights for a moment as Natasha flew away. When she was gone, he walked to the staircase and descended two flights until he stood in the hallway.

He could hear nothing from the entire floor. Elle and Loki kept later hours, he knew, when he wasn't around. He hoped they would stay asleep for a few more hours so he could rest up in his own bed. The hall smelled like air freshener and lingering dregs of food and coffee. The yellow lights in the ceiling were dim on the walls and floor.

Steve sighed and pulled out his keys as quietly as possible. He was home, safe, and uninjured by some miracle. Even if his apartment would be quiet, he was glad to be back. He could rest and look forward to seeing the team when they woke up.

The second he entered his apartment, he sensed something off. He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness and made out two sets of car keys on the little island. There was also a new blanket draped over the back of his couch, new books on his shelves, and a cardboard box set on his easy chair.

Steve felt his mouth turn up in a grin, even as his inner code of decency made him imagine berating whoever was responsible for all this. Eleanore was obviously the first suspect, but he didn't think she'd have left a box unopened on his chair. She was perfectly comfortable with putting things away where she saw fit, and Steve would find them later when he was searching for something else. Darren was the next, since magic would turn the lock just as easily as a key.

He turned on the living room light and surveyed the additions to his life. The blanket was actually a quilt— an amalgam of muted red and blue plaid, blending nicely with the gray couch. It had a sticky note on it, folded so he couldn't read it from across the room. The books were historical and scientific, detailing things he'd missed and people he'd never known. The box took up most of the chair in squat, taped, brown glory. This had a message written in marker on its top. Nearly illegible cursive spelled out a short message: " _Pepper and Dad sent these for you. I don_ _'t know what's in here, but it feels like clothes and stuff. Let me know what you think of the car. -Darren_ "

Steve opened the box cautiously, knowing that a package from Tony could contain anything. On top sat a large sweatshirt with the shield emblazoned cartoon-style across the chest. Next came sweatpants with the same decal, and then some kind of sneakers of the same design. Below these, there was a small box with a cell phone and charger inside. Then there were some novelty socks and a t-shirt, also with the shield all over accompanied by the 'A' from his helmet.

Steve shook his head, took the technology, and left the clothing items alone. He headed for the blanket next, curious as to what explanation would be on the note. When he opened the yellow paper, he found unfamiliar handwriting.

" _Steve,_

" _I make quilts as a hobby, so I asked Elle to bring you this one. Think of it as a housewarming gift. Ha ha, literally._

" _~Lydia"_

Lydia wrote with the same sense of humor as her daughter, although her handwriting was much neater. Steve could almost hear her voice through the note itself. He chuckled to himself and felt the quilt's material, soft and new under his fingers. It smelled like laundry detergent and Lydia's room at the home.

Yeah. It was nice to have people waiting for him to come back.

Steve felt gratified weariness creeping over his body, down to his very bones. He forced himself to restart his washing machine with new soap and hot water, in spite of the smell. Then he headed into his bedroom, flipping off the living room light as he went.

There was nothing new in his room, thankfully. The blinds cast slight orange shadows from the street lamp over his closet door, his bed, his other book shelf. The night stand lay undisturbed with a thin layer of dust spread evenly over everything. Steve stripped out of his uniform and crawled straight into bed, curling up under the smooth sheets. The fabric had taken on an abandoned smell while he'd been away— he'd do more laundry in the morning.

But for now, he could barely keep his eyes open. Steve sighed and let his mind wander willingly into the darkness of sleep.

The sun woke him, slanting down through the little gaps in the blinds' strings.

Steve sat up and jumped out of bed. He'd slept for at least five hours straight, with no disturbances and no dreams. That was basically unheard of, anymore. He'd meant to wake up at dawn. Now it was nearly ten o'clock in the morning, and he was supposed to have met with Elle for coffee, gotten tested by Bruce at some lab, met with the young people Loki hated, assessed his team, helped with the experiments… Glancing over at the desk, he realized he hadn't plugged his new phone in, and the notification light on the old one wasn't blinking. No communication was evident when he picked it up and opened the screen.

 _Just get ready_ , he mentally growled, rubbing a hand over his face. He connected the new phone to the charging cord beside his bed, watching as the screen lit up with a battery symbol. He grabbed civilian clothing: a black t-shirt and jeans (the only clean things he had, thanks to the washing machine) and darted into the bathroom to set the record for world's quickest shower.

He emerged five minutes later dressed, shaved, and hungry. He started his newly washed clothes on a dry cycle that would prevent mildew in case he didn't come home within ten hours. Decided to leave his sheets for later. Steve threw together a peanut butter sandwich and wolfed it down between draughts of milk before he wiped his face on the kitchen towel, pocketed his new car keys, and headed out the door.

He stepped into the hall just as Eleanore did. She was carrying a roll of quarters and an empty laundry basket. Music played softly from her apartment until the door closed off most of the sound.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Laundry?" She stopped and looked him up and down. "I had some time and I like to keep up with it. You probably need to do some too, right? Welcome home, by the way."

"Thanks. But why don't you use my machine?" Steve asked, more to the point.

Elle stared at him, the basket hanging from her hand. "Oh wow."

"What?"

"I forgot you have a washer and dryer." She grinned at herself and shook her head.

Steve couldn't believe it. "You taught me how to use it." Actually, he could believe it. His machines were in the kitchen of his apartment, where Elle had a pantry instead, and he usually kept the door shut to keep everything looking neat and clean.

"Shut up," Elle laughed. "It's been a busy… life. I'll go get my wet clothes from the basement and run them through your dryer."

"Well, I have some drying now." Steve thought over their options. "Want to go for coffee? They should be done by then." He hoped she'd take the 'coffee' hint. He was genuinely curious about whatever it was she wanted to tell him.

She nodded understanding. "Yeah. Loki's already over talking to Bruce at the D.C. facility. Something about sensors and design. We have a few hours. I'll just use the basement dryer this time, though, and we can coordinate after this."

"Loki and Bruce?" Steve asked, deciding to accompany her down to the basement. He relaxed a little as he fell into the familiar pattern of talking to Eleanore alone. If she was this safe and unperturbed, then Loki couldn't be too angry anymore.

"They get along really well. I don't know about the Other Guy, but Bruce seems okay with Loki." Elle shrugged over her shoulder. "Honestly, I think Loki likes hanging out with someone stronger than us."

"Why's that?" They'd reached the basement now. A long hallway with one door marked 'Service' and a few studio apartments that Elle said housed night-owl college students.

Elle pulled a load of clothing out of one of the washing machines. "I'll tell you in the apartment. Coffee there? It's cheaper." She put the clothes in the dryer and inserted enough quarters for a medium hour-long cycle.

"Sure." Since Loki was gone, they could talk about anything without worrying about lip reading or photographic evidence or covert video recordings. At least, that was the plan. "My coffee or yours?"

"Mine, since you're letting me use your appliances now."

Charlie trilled a greeting as they walked into Elle and Loki's apartment, and Elle turned on the device scrambler and set it on the island. There was no sign of Loki through his open bedroom door, which set Steve at ease enough to ask the questions that had been plaguing him since the mission. The music still played in the background; modern stuff full of acoustic guitar and roughened voices so unlike the smooth performances of the forties. Steve still liked this style, though he wasn't familiar enough to recognize anything except Elle's favorite songs. "You said you wanted to talk about something."

"I do. I wrote it down." Elle put the coffee on to brew and gathered her notebook from the coffee table. She sat at the island, so Steve took the other stool. "I talked to Loki a bit while you were gone. He really opens up one-on-one."

"He does," Steve agreed. "That night we played Darren's video games, he talked to me about magic on Asgard. It's not encouraged."

"I know. Frigga told me about it before you showed up that last morning." Elle flipped to a specific page and stopped. "Here it is. The night Loki made the World Tree, we came home for supper and got to talking about magic and stuff. You know how the scepter and the Tesseract had stones in them? There's more. Loki doesn't know about all of them, but they're all very powerful. Anyway, the guy who mind-controlled Loki wants all the stones, so he sent Loki here with the Mind Stone to try to get the Tesseract, which is actually the Space Stone. Gem. He calls them gems."

"So he lost two gems trying to gain one?" Steve asked. The logic seemed… off.

"That'swhat _I_ said," Elle rejoiced. "But Loki got mad when I called the guy an idiot. Not because he likes him, but because Loki doesn't know how much of a hold they still have on his mind. He says it's dangerous to say things like that where he can hear. They make him have nightmares every time he sleeps, still."

"Every night?" That was harsh. How was the guy even surviving on so little sleep? And worse… "He doesn't know if his mind is his own yet?"

"He's pretty sure he's mostly himself," Elle said nonchalantly, waving her hand to dismiss Steve's concern. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Loki thinks they developed the connection through his anger. So now, whenever he gets angry, they try to take over and make him even angrier. Which could lead to problems. That's why I think he likes being around Bruce: he knows the Hulk can fu— smash him up before he actually loses control."

Steve saw the meaning of her cryptic, hopeful email then. He also smiled when she specifically stopped herself from cussing in front of him. "So 'something to hope for' is that Loki doesn't want to kill us anymore?"

"His exact words were, 'not at present, no'." Elle grinned, apparently finding some humor in that remark.

"Why are you smiling about that?" Steve asked.

"Oh, because he really doesn't want to kill us at all. He hasn't wanted to for probably a week now. He calmed down at the farm, and now he almost kind of likes us sometimes."

"How can you tell?" How could they be sure Loki wouldn't go off the rails and murder them in an angry accident?

"The way he feels around us. He doesn't like those kids, you know, those scientists. He turns to Bruce or Darren, or even me sometimes, for someone to talk to when they don't listen to him. He's really trying, too."

 _He likes being understood_. Steve had seen that the night of the video games as well. And he was probably tired of being _mis_ understood. Centuries as a magical outcast on Asgard had probably worn his patience thin to begin with, and now the attacks on his mind were pushing him closer to the edge. And Steve hadn't helped at all, barreling into trouble against Loki's direct advice.

"And he likes my mom a lot," Elle continued over Steve's thoughts, "which probably has something to do with it."

"Your mom?" Steve asked, curious.

"Yeah. They're really good friends now. Loki visits her almost once every day. They have tea and talk." Elle looked Steve over and picked up on his concern before he voiced it. "He hasn't been to see Peggy yet. I said you'd introduce her if you wanted to."

"Thanks." At least that was one less concern. But Steve still had other questions. "So when you say 'mind control,' you mean only when he's angry or asleep."

"That's what we can tell so far," Elle confirmed. "He has really violent nightmares sometimes. He only told me about one, though. He doesn't like to talk about them."

"What one did he talk about?"

"Um." Elle gave Steve an evasive side-eye as she slipped from her stool and walked over to the coffee maker. "It wasn't a good one."

"Yeah?" Steve followed her and grabbed a mug. "I can tell, since you don't want to say it."

"Very perceptive," Elle joked. "I'll tell you. I'm just phrasing it right in my head." She fell silent, adding creamer and sugar to her coffee.

Steve waited until they were both back at their island perches. "Phrased it yet?"

"He says he unintentionally killed us in a dream he had the night after we caught Tiryaki." Elle said it all in a rush, like that would make it better.

It didn't. "So he does want to kill us."

" _Unintentional_ , Steve," Elle insisted. "I woke him up from it because he was panicking so much. You were already at the Triskelion. He didn't lash out, didn't do anything but stare at me and feel really relieved. And the rest of the day, he really tried to keep it together, even though he was tired."

"So you feel safe with him here? With you? Alone?" Steve wasn't sure he could believe it. But then, Elle was incredibly optimistic. And very confident in herself. And she lived with a dragon, so she was never really alone.

"I do," she said firmly, like that was the only answer possible. "He protects us. You feel safe sparring with him."

"I was just making sure," Steve assured her. "I can always sleep on the couch if you think it's going to be a bad night."

"No, it's fine. We're fine." She frowned up at Steve. "He was annoyed with you for not leaving the magic corpses alone, though."

"I know." Steve sighed and sipped his coffee. "Did you have to talk him down?"

"No, he just rolled his eyes and called you an idiot." Elle grinned at him. "He told my mom about it, though, and she also called you an idiot. Affectionately."

"As long as it was affectionately." Steve liked Lydia and her no-nonsense attitude. He could see how she was good for Loki, too. Someone to complain to when Elle and Steve got annoying, as they must, being around all the time. Someone he could visit whenever he wanted for that cinnamon tea. "Did you write anything else down?"

"Yes." Elle waved her pen between them. "The three of us have an appointment at three forty-five this afternoon for contract negotiations at the Triskelion. We're using Darren's lawyer. Fury wants to re-negotiate yours to account for working with the Avengers, too."

By 'Avengers,' Steve could tell Fury meant Eleanore and Loki specifically. "Re-negotiate how?"

"Well, right now you're also under contract as a freelance agent. You read the documents, right?"

"Yeah." And they'd seemed to make sense. But then, Steve hadn't had a lawyer with him during his signing process. He'd only woken up two days before, and he'd been out of his depth. He mostly lent his trust to the organization Peggy had started; the people who'd found him and provided a place to live while he got used to 2012.

"They didn't think you'd be such a loose cannon, I think, so they gave you a lot of freedom in that contract. You can take leave whenever you want, and you have license to use force if you deem it necessary. I think they want to curb us a little bit." Elle grinned at him. "Am I a bad influence on you?"

Steve felt his mouth curve into a wry smirk. "No, I've always been like this. But I don't want to be curbed. Will the lawyer help me keep my current contract?"

"She might be able to negotiate some of the terms away, but SHIELD knows how to play hardball." Now Elle was frowning through him, brown eyes unfocused as she thought. "I think we'll have to compromise. Loki will be tied down like I am, unable to use force without permission from the team leader. But, since you're probably going to be the team leader, it shouldn't be a problem."

"I'm not the leader right now," Steve pointed out.

"Eh. I bet we'd listen to you if you started giving orders."

"Are you organizing a coup?" Steve joked.

"I'd call it 'American Revolution, Part 2'." Elle lost it a little, laughing at her own joke.

Steve chuckled along, glad for the moment of levity. When she didn't stop laughing, he got caught up and then they were just making each other continue whenever their gazes met.

"I see you're keeping a normal level of professionalism here." Loki was there, suddenly, striding from his bedroom without looking up from a notepad on which he was quickly scribbling something.

Steve's laughter died down. "You need us for something?"

Loki looked up then from his position in the middle of the living room. "Your compatriots seem to think so. I've been sent to carry you both to the Triskelion labs for more consultation from the children."

"He means the scientists," Elle clarified. She turned around and hopped off her stool, placing her coffee mug on the counter before heading for the door and grabbing the laundry basket. "I'll be right back, then."

The door closed after her, leaving a silence that was interrupted by the soft music. Steve grew uncomfortable as he noticed Loki staring at him with steely eyes that were almost… glowing?

Steve tried a grin. "See anything interesting?"

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. "A fool who actively dips his hands into hostile magic."

 _Wow. So that_ _'s where we are._ Steve wasn't about to apologize for protecting unsuspecting SHIELD agents from a brush with their magician, but he did want to stay on the right foot with Loki. "I couldn't just walk away and leave it for someone else."

"No," Loki mused coldly. "I suppose _you_ never can." He lifted a hand and some printouts appeared— images taken by Clint's night vision goggles, and some others collected by forensics. He examined them closely before sending them away with no explanation. "I assign the blame mostly to Odin for placing my life in your hands. But of course, he does want me executed. This way he doesn't have to dirty his own ax."

"Nothing happened," Steve protested, actually a bit hurt at Loki's hostile tone and the implication of Steve's carelessness. "I did what you said. I changed clothes as soon as I got on the plane and showered when I got home. We left the bodies for drones to pick up. Nobody got hurt."

Loki glared at him, going still as stone. "As far as you can surmise."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve looked down at his hands, where he's scrubbed and scrubbed to get clean in the quinjet's bathroom. "Loki, I can't see—"

"— Precisely. You can't see. You throw yourself from a cliff without…" Loki trailed off, his eyes going distant. He came back a second later and set his jaw, grinding his teeth.

Steve realized the argument might have pushed the demigod toward the malevolent mind control. How could he fix this? "Look…" he began, choosing his words carefully. "I know you're more experienced with this than I am. I know your advice is sound. I didn't want to put you in danger, too, but I couldn't leave it for someone else."

Loki met his eyes, but he didn't respond right away. Some of the ice seemed to melt from his gaze, though a lot remained.

Steve watched for any blue clouds forming, any indication of a real threat, but saw nothing except the normal blue-green. "Are you— do you need Elle?" he asked cautiously.

Something undeniably bitter twisted Loki's mouth at those words. "You needn't fear for your life at present. I don't yet wish to end." He headed for his bedroom again, pausing with his hand on the door. "I will meet you at the Triskelion. You may transport yourself there." He closed himself off firmly, leaving a silence that was too complete to be natural.

 _Elle really underestimated how angry he was with me_ , Steve thought, unclenching his fists under the counter. Then he recalled the encounter, and how Loki had examined him at first. _Did he see the other magic? Is it still on me?_ He looked at his hands and found nothing out of the ordinary.

But then, _Wait_ _… "_ I don't _yet_ wish to end? _" Does he think about dying a lot? Is he planning to die sometime soon?_

"I can just—" Elle entered the apartment with the basket of folded laundry on her hip, pausing at the sight of the empty living room. "Did I take too long?"

"No." Steve scratched the back of his head sheepishly, wondering how much to tell her about that fight. Wondering whether Loki was listening through the door. "We sort of… disagreed."

Elle looked him up and down, then rolled her eyes and walked to her room without a word. She came back shouldering her suit backpack and a purse with Jet on her heels. "I suppose we need to drive, then."

"Yeah." Steve was grateful for the lack of a second lecture. He drained the rest of his coffee and set the mug in the sink. He decided not to mention the new car until they got to the parking lot. One source of frustration was probably enough for the moment.

They locked their apartments and descended the stairs in silence. Steve took the rear, so he almost ran into Jet when Elle paused in the middle of the lot, keys in her hand, staring at the car.

"Darren made that," she observed with a frown.

"He asked me to test drive it," Steve explained. "I needed a car, so…" he tried to shrug it off.

Elle gave him a _look._ "Uh huh. Right after I argued him out of giving me one." She sighed. "It's so ugly. It looks like it's from the eighties or nineties. He gave you a DeLorean sedan."

Steve looked over the jagged edges and sharp lines of the car, skimming over yet another cultural reference he didn't understand. It had none of the curves of more modern vehicles or automobiles from the forties. "He said it's really safe."

"I watched him design most of it." Elle was resigned. "It _is_ safe. We could get rammed with a tank and survive. But the thing is… I still don't want to drive it, just out of pure stubbornness."

"We can take your car," Steve offered.

Elle shook her head. "No, there's enough conflict for one day already. And I'm sure there'll be more when we get there. And I bet Tony or Pepper told him to give it to you; Darren's not this manipulative on his own." She walked around to the passenger side and jiggled the door handle.

Steve pressed the button on the key fob and unlocked it. He climbed into the driver's seat, jumping as the car automatically adjusted to his height and moved the mirrors around. "It's not even started yet."

That made Eleanore grin. "Jarvis? You're freaking Steve out."

" _My apologies, Captain Rogers_ ," Jarvis replied from the speakers.

"It's fine," Steve said, once the lumbar setting stopped moving. He raised the key and felt it magnetically drawn to the ignition. "You could probably drive us there, couldn't you?"

" _Navigation is one of the functions I serve in this vehicle,_ " Jarvis said. " _However, I will not engage auto-pilot without your express consent, unless an emergency situation arises._ "

"Good. Thank you." Steve gripped the wheel and got a feel for the car. He noticed it was an automatic, so he simply shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking space.

"I'm suprised Darren didn't give you a stick shift," Elle mused, examining the visors. "Maybe he made this for me, though."

"You don't like manuals?" Steve asked, turning onto the street.

"Not so much. Just not used to them. So Loki's still angry about the magic corpses?" She changed the subject with characteristic swiftness.

"I didn't help," Steve admitted. "I didn't know he was so concerned."

"Yeah, he doesn't show it." Elle started rooting around in the glove box, coming up with a first aid kit and a loaded handgun. "Huh. In case Jarvis goes rogue."

" _A nine-millimeter handgun for non-armored assailants_ ," Jarvis supplied. " _I_ _'m afraid I would be impervious to it._ "

"What do we have for armored assailants?" Elle asked, ignoring the implied danger from the AI.

The center console shifted under Steve's elbow, and a mini turret popped up. " _This will require the bulletproof windows to be rolled down before use, Miss Engman_."

"Thanks, Jarvis. Other features?"

" _Reinforced low-profile frame, ultra-thick tires, deflective undercarriage, and_ _…_ " the screen on the dash lit up and jazz music started playing, " _a lifetime subscription to satellite radio_."

Steve was amused and amazed by the AI's sense of humor. He didn't know much about computer programming, but he thought it would have to be awfully advanced to accommodate sarcasm.

"Fuel source?" Elle questioned.

" _Renewable_ ," Jarvis replied. " _Two arc reactors placed under the cabin to power the wheels and the defensive devices._ _"_

That was impressive. They could go basically anywhere on the continent in this thing. Steve marveled at how far technology had come in such a short time. "Next you'll tell me it can fly."

" _That capability is scheduled for the next upgrade, Captain_."

Elle laughed at Steve's shock. "Upgrades happen every six months, if not longer."

 _I should know how to fly by then._ Steve shook himself and remembered a more pressing matter. "I don't know what to do about Loki, Elle."

"I know," she muttered, thunking her head back against the headrest with a sigh. "I suppose an apology is out of the question."

"I'll thank him for his help," Steve said. "I won't apologize for doing what's right."

"Just go over the whole argument for me," Elle suggested.

So Steve did, recounting everything word for word and describing every expression he'd observed in Loki's face. By the time he was done, they were crossing the bridge to the Triskelion's island.

When he finished speaking, Elle pulled the signal jammer from her pocket and turned it on in response to their proximity to SHIELD. "Well, that's not as bad as it could have been," she stated calmly.

"But it's more than that," Steve pointed out. "It's trust and teamwork. How will we—"

"Steve." Elle interrupted him with his name, said in a calm, quiet tone. When she had his attention, she continued, "Conflict isn't always bad."

Steve huffed a breath through his nose, winding the car into the parking garage. "How do you figure that?"

"It's all in how you handle it. Accepting someone else's grievances, making them feel validated. You did some of that with Loki, and he noticed." She tapped her fingers against the center console contemplatively. "I think he's feeling cooped up, only going from the lab to the apartment and back all day, every day. He hasn't sparred with anyone— we've been focused on this since you left. He probably needs some space, and no one is giving him any. Just try to act normal around him for the rest of the day, okay?"

Steve absorbed her analysis, recognizing the real truth in her words. "How can we give him space?"

"I've been putting off flying with Jet for a few days," Elle said. "Maybe tonight we could go to the meadow and blow off some steam."

"That sounds great." Steve finally found a parking spot on the seventh level. The garage was busier than normal. He attributed to Tiryaki's presence, and the lunch hour. It was eleven thirty AM.

They entered the now-familiar building, and Steve followed Elle to a lab on the fiftieth floor. Several young scientists were there, bustling around computers and equipment, some taking it apart, some reassembling. Bruce and Darren were there, too, talking to Loki over a holographic set of equations.

Steve made himself act natural as they approached their friends. He gave a small grin and a nod to both Bruce and Darren. "How's it going?"

"It's alright," Darren said, breaking himself free from the trio to wrap an arm around Elle's shoulders in greeting.

"We're translating some of Loki's knowledge into equations," Bruce added, glancing at the demigod appreciatively.

Loki met Steve's eyes with an icy acceptance. "The process is slow. Presumably, the results will make up for that."

"The results are amazing," commented one lab-coated kid with red hair and a loud voice.

"Steve, this is Dr. John Jacobsen." Elle introduced Steve to the young man. "Dr. Jacobsen, this is Captain Rogers."

"It's an honor to meet you," Jacobsen said automatically. As soon as Steve stopped shaking his hand, he turned to Darren and started talking about something to do with a spectrometer and sensor calibration.

Steve wasn't offended. He figured the boy was more enthusiastic about new discoveries than meeting relics.

"Come on," Elle suggested, nodding over to a couple spare desks. "We can research ancient magic stuff humans might have had. We're looking for anything like the Tesseract— religious artifacts, what have you."

"Got it." Steve was relieved. He wasn't averse to being around scientists, but he was pretty useless in this setting. Bruce and Loki were already back into their discussion of lofty physics (at least, Steve thought it was physics) and Darren peeled away from them to supervise a device with Dr. Jacobsen at his side. Steve seated himself at a computer and let Elle start leading him through the research process.

"SHIELD has access to every library we could ever hope to find, digitally," she began, pointing to a web browser. "We're focusing on search terms. It's a lot of busywork, actually, but it's important."

"I don't mind it," Steve assured her. It was better than performing in front of crowds.

"Yeah, it's interesting," Elle agreed. "So I've been looking up potential terms, archaic words for magic and power in other languages. When I find an article or a book, I skim through initially, seeing if I can find any mention of a device or artifact. You can use this search function," she showed him a key combination, "to find specific words. This one," another combination, "translates pretty accurately. If you're having trouble with that, Jarvis can help from your phone. Just point the camera at the page. If you find locations, try to pinpoint them on a map I'll email to you. We're developing theories about what humans could do, and how they learned about magic. You know, other than from our friend over there." She glanced up at Loki with a grin.

Loki looked over and raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed.

"Okay." Steve hoped he understood what he needed to do. He didn't like asking Elle a lot of questions in front of other people. Not that he was ashamed, but he liked to at least seem like he had his act together.

"If you have any questions, we can chat about them." Elle opened his email and clicked on her name and a speech bubble, like from a comic book. "Then we don't have to shout over them."

Steve shook his head and grinned. "You think of everything."

"I try." She headed over to her own desk, about five feet away, and began typing. "We'll see what we can find. I'm going to go through some of the stuff the analysts have sent me while you do that, okay?"

"Okay." Steve got to work and soon lost himself in terms and searches that became threads and trails to follow to locations. He got the map Elle sent him and started trying to find specific coordinates for places mentioned in ancient texts.

A couple of hours passed that way. Loki and Bruce and Darren dispersed and reconvened from time to time, always talking about higher mathematics. Steve watched them, mostly out of idle curiosity as his mind thought through possibilities. Loki seemed like he enjoyed talking to Bruce most of all, then Darren. He looked down his nose at most of the scientists— literally, because he was taller than everyone in the room. The only lab coat who didn't draw direct scorn was a light-haired young man with a quiet personality named Dr. Salfield.

But most of Steve's focus was eaten up by the research and navigating the computer. He saved documents as '.pdf' after a quick check with Elle via chat. He created folders and organized the information into time-period, and then narrowed them by country of origin.

At two o'clock, he decided it was time for a quick break.

"Coffee?" Steve offered the occupied woman to his right.

"Not right now, thanks." She grinned up at him and glanced over to where the scientists were gathered around Loki, asking question after question. "They get overwhelming, sometimes."

"This is what you've been doing the past few days?" He leaned in his rolling chair and tried to see what exactly she was monitoring from this angle. Loki's face was visible, most of the time, across a sea of computers and desks and equipment. He looked tense and nearly exasperated, but he was clearly trying to explain things patiently.

Steve wondered how much their argument had worn away his patience.

"Not all the time," Elle informed him. "Bruce and Darren bounce ideas off me a lot, really. Loki explains things. I've been collaborating with Pepper on some things, too. Oh," she held up a finger, "speaking of which, how do you feel about Cap merchandise being sold?"

"I have a say in that?" Steve asked.

"Kind of. The government and Stark Industries have the rights to the shield design, but they want your image for some things. Recruiting and whatnot."

"For the Army?" Steve frowned. He'd sold bonds back in the day, but men had signed up to protect their country with or without him. He didn't know if he wanted to advocate for it now, when the wars were so secretive and those who signed up had no real idea who or what or why they were fighting.

"You don't have to do it, by any means," Elle assured him. "I can get a lawyer to go along to the negotiations if you'd like. A specialized lawyer, not the contract one. I'm going too, just so you know. And magazines and shows want to interview you like crazy."

"That's great." Steve leaned back on the chair and crossed his arms. He had no idea how to answer that, not anymore. Before, interviews would have been scripted: patriotism, encouragement, five minutes tops. From the talk shows and news he'd seen in the present day, it all took a lot more time. He looked over at Darren, who probably had microphones shoved in his face on a regular basis. Then he turned to Elle, who was probably just as much of a target. "Do you turn down the interviews?"

"They don't ask me much anymore." Elle smiled as mischievously as Loki sometimes did.

That smile was infectious. Steve grinned back. "They don't like your answers?"

"I've been Youtube famous a few times for being 'funny,'" Elle acknowledged. "They'll probably try again after I do the public reveal. But anyway; I think the most important press piece would be with the Smithsonian. They contacted SHIELD two days ago while you were out. Maria gave me the information. They want to put together a sort of 'welcome back' exhibit, showcasing everything you and the Commandos accomplished in the war."

"What would that involve?" Steve asked. The Commandos had been great, but he didn't know that modern people would be that excited about what they'd done seventy years ago. Not with aliens running around and mutants popping up and magic displayed as a real force.

"Probably just some interviews. They have the information in their archives, they just need to put it together and get permission from you and Peggy now. There have been documentaries, cartoons, comics, even toys made about you, you know, ever since the forties."

"People still buy them?" People other than deceased Agent Phil Coulson? Steve didn't see the appeal. He liked giving people hope, but why would modern citizens fall back on him now?

"Yes, people do. I've said it before: you're a symbol, and not just for Americans. There are memorials for you, Howard, and Peggy all over Europe."

 _None for Bucky, though._ "I'd have some requirements for the exhibit."

"Oh? Like what?" Elle reached into her backpack and pulled out a black spiral notebook and a blue ballpoint pen. "We can make a list. I'm sure they'll cooperate."

Steve would have grinned if his heart wasn't tugging him toward the floor. "Have you ever heard of James Barnes?"

Elle's face fell, too; an obvious answer. "Well, yeah. I researched you before we met, you know." She started writing in the notebook. "So a section of the exhibit for him? I don't foresee that being a problem. He was the only Commando who died during his service career."

Instead of being shocked, Steve appreciated her blunt words. "He never got a proper funeral or burial. His folks only got a flag. I want something more."

"We can do that. I'll come with for the negotiations, like I said, but I'm sure you could persuade them yourself— oh!" Elle started in her chair as a new thought hit. "Coffee. Yes. Come on."

"You alright?" Steve stood as she did, not really following the logic.

"I'm good, I'm fine. Stay here; I'll be right back." She walked over to Loki, interrupting a discussion on biological energy transfer. "Steve and I are going to make a coffee run. Want anything?"

Steve winced at the superior looks a couple of the 'lab coats' gave her. They didn't like her very much, thought she had little value, and here she was offering to get someone they perceived as more powerful coffee.

But what Elle was really doing was telling Loki she and Steve would be gone for a few minutes, and that he should be careful. He got the message, met Steve's eyes for the barest second, and glared at the red-headed kid who opened his mouth to speak.

"I'll take a dark roast with two sugars," he said condescendingly. John Jacobsen. Steve officially didn't like him.

Elle gave him a _look_. "I didn't ask you." She looked back up at Loki, who was smiling widely. "You never got to answer."

"I'm not thirsty, thank you. But you could answer a question for me," Loki offered.

"Sure, what?"

"How was Vanaheim, when last you paid a visit?"

 _He_ _'s good_ , Steve thought to himself. Reminding everyone present that Eleanore Engman had seen other worlds; that she was more experienced than any of the doctorates standing around her. This was statecraft at its finest. It was also proof that Loki liked Elle enough (or at least had enough disdain for Dr. Jacobsen) to treat her with respect.

 _At least he_ _'s only mad at one of us._

Elle took the question literally, though Steve could see she understood where it came from. "It was fine. Very magicky. I suppose it was the same last time you were there."

"It was. Thank you. Enjoy your coffee." Loki gave a small grin over Elle's head as she sauntered back toward Steve.

"That put him in a better mood," Elle observed as they made their way through the hall to the elevator. "I think he takes offense when that Jacobsen kid is an ass."

"I think you did too," Steve pointed out, pressing the button for the ground floor.

"They don't like me," Elle admitted with a shrug. "A Communications degree doesn't hold a lot of weight among the hard sciences. And they also don't know or even suspect I'm an Avenger. Jet hasn't visited the lab with me yet."

"I didn't know you picked up on that," Steve said honestly. "I thought you ignored them or something."

"Well, I don't really give a flying fu— fladoodle what they think of _me_ , so long as they get the job done. And, like I told Loki, they're young. They haven't learned how to value others yet. They don't like each other much." She sighed as the door _dinged_ open. "They don't listen to Loki, though. It's not that hard to understand what he's saying. He even provides visuals."

"They're having the same trouble Tony did," Steve agreed. "Too used to thinking one way." He noticed Elle was leading him into a more secluded part of the ground floor: down the west-most hallway toward the north side of the building. "Where are we going?"

"Not for coffee," Elle informed him.

"Oh, thanks for clarifying." Steve could hold back his curiosity for a few more minutes. They were almost to the end of the building.

"Through here," Eleanore invited, swinging open an unlocked, unmarked door.

Steve followed her into a glass atrium with a courtyard, benches, potted plants, and… A Wall of Valor.

He felt his face falling slack as his feet automatically carried him forward. He didn't have to search much to find _Bucky Barnes_ at the top of the list. His own name was right below.

"Peggy created this," Elle explained quietly. "There's one in every official SHIELD facility. She said it's important to remember where we came from, and who got us here."

Steve took in her words, but he didn't answer. Couldn't really, because anything he'd say would seem pale in comparison to this display. He just stood still, staring at the recognition Bucky deserved, reliving memories over and over. It always ended at the train, Bucky screaming as he fell, still reaching out for Steve to catch him.

Elle's hand on his arm brought him back. He tore his eyes away and met her gaze.

She gave an understanding smile. "I'm going back upstairs. I'll let you know if we go anywhere."

"Okay."

Her footsteps faded quickly, and no other people came through. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, cloudy, and occasionally a few drops of drizzle hit the glass-tiled roof.

Steve sat on the bench in front of the wall, immersing himself in memories. There were, of course, all the times in Steve's apartment, when Bucky had stuck around to keep him company during yet another bout of illness. There was the time Steve had saved enough to accompany Bucky to the new art exhibits in the upscale part of town. Or the time Bucky had been the only person around to remember Steve's birthday, and had taken him to the top of the Empire State Building to survey the city from on high. Or the numerous occasions Bucky had found Steve in some back alley fight.

Always, it was Bucky smiling, teasing, sighing in exasperation.

It hurt most to lose that, Steve mused to himself. There was no one else, nor would there ever be anyone who knew him that well. He wasn't alone; he wasn't stupid enough to disregard Eleanore and Loki and the Avengers as valuable friends and allies. He was just… lonely.

"Captain?" An unfamiliar voice spoke from the doorway behind Steve.

Steve braced himself immediately and turned to meet whoever it was. He found a man in glasses with no hair clutching a leather folio and a tablet. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Agent Sitwell," the man said, stepping forward for a handshake.

Steve accepted it, and the introduction. "Here for a mission report?"

"Yes sir." Sitwell brandished the tablet and nodded back over his shoulder. "My office is just down the hall. I'll record it for posterity, but we'll have some privacy in there."

"After you." Steve followed him down said hall to a door among nondescript doors. The office was small, just a desk with a computer, two bookshelves with folders stacked along them, and two chairs for guests.

"It's pretty informal," Sitwell began. "Just start from the beginning and include as many details as you can."

 _Is this a test?_ Steve asked himself in response to the condescending tone. An answer wasn't forthcoming. It could be an experiment from Fury or Hill to see if Steve would put up with superior agents talking to him this way. Or it could be this guy was one of the many people who assumed Steve didn't know his ass from his elbows in the modern world.

Steve settled for a flat expression and started from the beginning. He recounted everything as he'd been taught after that first run against Hydra, when he'd brought back relative locations of any bases he could. His memory was a gift at times like this. He could remember every word that had been said, every mile they'd flown. He recalled the details of the Siberian house, then the one in Oman. He told Sitwell about talking to Clint's contact in England, but he kept Hall's name to himself just in case. He talked about learning to fly, and dropping Clint off at the Triskelion. Coming home.

"And I understand you were in contact with Miss Engman during this mission?" Sitwell asked when Steve's words ran out.

Steve frowned, recalling the 'watch list' email. "Along with the rest of the team."

"Uh huh." Sitwell typed something on his computer, where he'd been tracing the recording of the debrief. "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"No," Steve decided easily. If Fury wanted the details of their 'something to hope for' conversation, then he could come ask himself when Elle was there to decide what she wanted to share and what she wanted to keep private for Loki. Steve might be the leader of the Avengers, but he could rely on his teammates to make choices like this.

"Alright. Thank you, Captain." Sitwell stood when Steve did, and held the office door for him.

"No problem," Steve replied. As soon as the door closed, he pulled out his phone to check for any missed messages. There was nothing, thankfully. He headed over to the elevator and disembarked in the lab's hallway. Walked to the entrance, which slid back with barely any noise.

Mid-afternoon sunlight greeted him, alone. Everyone else was occupied with their own tasks, including his smaller team. The scientists were finishing up a large spectrometer drone that looked like it would barely fit through the door. Darren was helping them with that, soldering the last pieces in place. Bruce was reading through a paper copy of something, over in the quiet desks with his glasses perched on his nose. Elle and Loki were sharing a tablet, examining some images on it closely and talking about readouts.

Steve approached Banner instead of interrupting whatever breakthroughs his team was coming up with. He settled in a chair back at 'Elle's' computer, and started reading through her findings. There were a lot of windows. He was also close enough to— about fifteen feet away from— Elle and Loki to hear what they were saying. Loki glanced up and noted his presence, but didn't comment on it. Elle was absorbed in the screen.

"So what was in the serum, then?" Elle was asking, mostly talking to herself, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"A lubricant?" Loki offered, tracing a finger over the tablet's screen. "Look here. Did you not say it acted of its own volition? This could move through veins and muscle, no?"

"No." Elle frowned and corrected him, tapping on the screen. "It would have to expand— Oh, yeah. You're right." She said it so simply, like Loki had pointed out rain clouds in the sky. "That's a great idea. It expanded the vessel walls to allow the microbots through smaller areas, like capillaries. Awesome."

"Don't sound so surprised," Loki said sarcastically.

Steve had to stop himself from reacting to that tone. It was… humorous. _Friendly_. Lacking all the animosity and weary aggression that Steve had witnessed before his trip. He waited, staring at the computer, seeing how this conversation would continue.

"It also explains how easy it was for him to sweat this out," Elle continued, more interested in the discovery than Loki's joke.

They were talking about whatever Steve had been paralyzed with. So it was even more intriguing.

"It would also aid the magic's finesse," Loki added, back to business. "It's an assurance, of a sort. I would call it a potion."

"You have potions?" Elle inquired skeptically.

"Are you so shocked by this?" Loki asked.

"No, I mean… It just sounds archaic."

"Strange for _you_ to say that, when your kind is just discovering magic _again_." Loki was joking again, but with a hard edge to his voice.

"I know," Elle agreed. "I guess I'm biased too. So anyway, this potion. Insurance?"

" _Assurance_ ," Loki corrected her. "Since it eased the microbots through the body, the technician could give less-specific commands for their purposes, thereby carrying out the task more efficiently. Combined with the blood-thinner, it would keep the subject alive for days with a simple removal process."

"So the paralytics were a diversion." Eleanore sounded troubled.

"Possibly, or simply a way to subdue him," Loki mused. Then he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Did you not mention a meeting this afternoon?"

"At three forty-five," Elle confirmed. "We still have ten minutes. Want to help me find Steve?"

Loki smiled and avoided looking at Steve. "I don't know if we can find him in time. My perceptions tell me he's far from this building."

"What? Why would he leave?" Elle believed Loki right away, crossing her arms in frustration. "We're supposed to know about new missions."

Steve grinned at the prank, waiting for her to turn around and find him.

"I can't answer that, my lady," Loki said with a regretful sigh.

"I'll call—" Elle pulled out her phone and turned around to meet Steve's eyes. She stopped and scowled at him. "How long have you been here?"

Steve felt his grin grow into a smile. _Maybe we can still be a team._ "About ten minutes. Had to be sure you weren't late for contracts."

Elle sighed at both of them. "You two are worse than my cousins, I swear to god." Then she smiled and shrugged. "I guess we can head up. We're meeting in Fury's office."

Steve didn't like that notion. "Not a conference room?" That was where he'd met Elle originally, a few weeks ago. It was a neutral ground. Fury's office wouldn't offer them any power, dominated as it was by the imposing Director.

"Apparently not." Elle didn't seem as troubled. "Ready?" she asked both the men.

"I suppose so," Loki conceded. Steve couldn't tell whether he was bothered by the meeting location or not.

But Steve knew that even if all three of them protested, it wouldn't do any good at this point. He stood and followed them out of the room while Elle waved a brief parting to Darren and Bruce. They boarded the elevator quietly, and Elle pressed the button for the first floor. They had to descend to the main level, or go up to the more restricted top floors to access the center of the Triskelion where Fury's office was. The lab they came from was on the western outer wing.

"Your director is overseeing us personally," Loki remarked flatly.

Steve couldn't tell what point he was trying to make.

Elle responded instead. "He brought the Avengers together. Probably likes to know what we're up to. That's his whole job, so…"

"So you'll allow his supervision?" Loki asked incredulously.

Steve was surprised, too. Elle wasn't one to bow to authority. He waited to hear her rationale.

"With the supervision comes support," she began, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows at the two men. "I don't like to burn my bridges unless there's a good cause."

Steve could agree with that. "The Avengers are pretty isolated in the world, even with Tony's funding," he concurred.

"Better an isolated force than a puppet," Loki pointed out amiably. "How do you know they won't simply rid themselves of us once we've expended our usefulness?"

Steve heard the underlying caution. _'How do we know they'll keep us safe? Keep you mortals safe?_ ' It was a fair question. "SHIELD was founded on strong, valuable people," he mused as the elevator stopped. "Peggy wouldn't have done something like that. I have to believe that the man she allowed to succeed her wouldn't either."

Loki didn't look convinced, but there wasn't any more time for argument now. They were walking through a narrow, guarded hall that led them to a set of plain gray double doors. The doors opened of their own accord. Fury was in a bright, window-walled room, sitting behind a large desk.

Steve led the way, taking in his surroundings in a glance. A conference table to the door's right, lights set into the ceiling. Books along one wall. No personal decorations or ornaments, like Fury expected his authority to be evident on its own.

It was.

The serious man rose and greeted them solemnly. "Captain. Engman. Loki."

"Director," Steve replied.

"Hey." Elle was always informal. She even smiled at Fury; a habit she probably wasn't aware of.

"Director Fury." Loki's tone was as expressionless as his face.

Fury surveyed the trio for a split second, leaning back on his desk. "The terrorists' bodies are down in the restricted lab on sub level three. You can go take a look at them after this meeting."

"How long have they been here?" Loki asked immediately. "How long have your people been working on them?"

"They got in an hour ago. We set up a reinforced room with lead curtains before we brought them off the drones." Fury narrowed his eyes at the demigod. "We took your warning seriously. No one has unwrapped them. We're just pointing sensors right now. Decide which scientists from your team you want to help, and they'll meet you down there."

"Have the bodies exhibited anything… off?" Steve asked.

"Nothing reported," Fury answered him. "Other than all four being killed at approximately the same time… with magic. I'd like an explanation for that."

Steve and Elle both looked at Loki.

Loki raised an eyebrow at them. "I haven't had the opportunity to observe them. From what you said, Captain, they were destroyed by a powerful spell. I wouldn't dare to speculate any more at this juncture." He spoke more casually to the two Avengers.

Still, Steve didn't miss that he was 'Captain' here, and 'Steve' at home sometimes. He decided to get them back on subject. "So we're negotiating the contracts?"

"Negotiating might be a strong term," Fury replied, gesturing over to the conference table, where three stacks of paper lay in formation. "As Miss Engman requested, you three are reviewing her original contract."

"We'll wait for Miss Ewing to get here," Elle interjected politely, "before we discuss the legalities. Has she passed security clearance yet?"

"On her way up," Fury answered, seemingly unperturbed. "In the meantime, enlighten me to your lab oversight, Miss Engman."

Elle frowned, because Fury was asking her specifically, and glanced up at Loki. "Loki's more technically involved."

"I'd like a different perspective," Fury said firmly.

Elle took a deep breath. "Okay, well… We're making progress. I can't give you a time estimate, but the scientists are learning about magical energy as much as possible. Darren and Banner are experimenting with different sensors that we currently have, trying to figure out a tweak that will make them more accurate for tracking." As she spoke, her eyes went distant and fell to the window just behind the desk, tracking birds and clouds. Her voice grew more confident and more informational. "We know that the enemy is extremely powerful, and that he likes to use proxies. Tiryaki, and apparently his affiliates, and robots. We're looking for other groups using the poisons and microbots that were in Steve's bloodstream. Nothing on that yet, though. The biologists and engineers are still baffled by the magical energy source of the bots. Dr. Jacobsen was analyzing their programming, but it's incredibly simple. Commands for moving the legs, basically, to grasp cells and tissue, and to let go. They're looking into whether the bots were data transmitters, too. So far, possibilities are good. I've personally been looking through some of the data SHIELD's analysts are sending up, trying to find more relics that the magician might be using. Steve started on that today, too." She pulled herself back and met Fury's eyes. "I think that's everything."

 _Sounds like everything to me_. Steve was pretty proud of how well Elle was paying attention to the case. From looking at her computer, he could see she'd done tons of work on her own. Apparently she'd been monitoring the entire lab at the same time. Even the scientists, who didn't really talk to her.

"What do you think of the magician?" Fury asked her next.

"I haven't met them," Elle said with a shrug. "But I'd actually profile them as an avoidant combatant. They work by proxy, like I said, and they don't like to get their hands dirty. But they _do_ like to show off; hence the little forays with the robots. Someone who's heavily invested in Earth's technology. Possibly, they've only learned to control their powers recently."

"Maybe inspired by recent events?" Fury posited.

"Mmmaybe…" Elle chewed the inside of her cheek. "Or maybe watching for the development of the right technology. Tiryaki's serum is the first instance of even partially functional microbots we've seen, and they were archaic compared to the magic—"

She was interrupted when the double doors opened again, admitting a middle-aged African American woman in a black pantsuit with a matching black briefcase.

"Miss Ewing," Fury greeted her.

"Director Fury." Miss Ewing nodded to each of them, then came forward with an outstretched hand. Her grip was firm. That done, she glanced at the conference table. "Shall we get started? I read over the paperwork on my way here."

Steve liked her already. Direct, businesslike, and clearly very capable.

"By all means." Fury gestured them forward.

Steve picked up one of the stacks of papers and leafed through it. It was a strict agreement, binding him to SHIELD and SHIELD's secrets, barring him from unauthorized collaboration with anyone from any other agency. One of the clauses allowed surveillance of his apartment in 'emergency situations.' The definition for an emergency situation was extremely vague. And the definition for 'surveillance' was extremely inclusive. Bugs, wires, phone tapping, guards stationed outside the building, in the hallway, in his apartment…

 _Did Elle sign up for this?_

He could feel Loki coiling into a ball of tension right next to him.

 _Shit. How do we negotiate for mind-controlled anger?_

"The surveillance clause is still in here," Elle said from Steve's other side, turning back to Fury. "I guess you went with my _original_ contract, pre-negotiation."

"It's the standard contract for agents affiliated with other organizations." Fury walked over to their table and stood at its head. "We have to protect SHIELD's intel. It's what keeps our other agents safe."

"I drew up a list of preferred omissions," Miss Ewing interjected, handing a piece of paper across the table.

Fury caught it and looked it over. "We're not giving all three of you license to kill based on your own judgment." His eye widened as he read further. "And no way you're getting your own quinjet for discretionary use."

Steve realized that SHIELD's version of hardball might not live up to Miss Ewing's standards.

"There is another option," the lawyer offered flatly. She produced another file and handed it over to Fury.

He read through this with much less emotion. Closed it and looked down the table at each Avenger in turn. He sighed and passed the folder back. "Add an emergency clause for solo consulting, and you've got a deal."

 _What_ _'s in the folder?_ Steve wondered. But he had to act like he knew. Eleanore was, at any rate, looking somewhat triumphant. Loki was impassive.

"Excellent. I'll draw up the paperwork tonight and send you the copy tomorrow." Miss Ewing snapped the folder back into her briefcase and straightened her shoulders, seeming satisfied with the results. Whatever those were.

"We'll be in touch," Fury assured her. When she was gone, he turned his glower on Steve, Elle, and Loki. "You three came prepared."

Steve got the feeling that he was out of a necessary loop. He stayed quiet.

"We need to work together," Elle pointed out.

"You assume a lot." Fury shook his head at them. "Expect some pushback on this, and not just from me."

Steve got the gist now: Miss Ewing had negotiated for Steve, Loki, and Eleanore to be sent out together instead of separately. It was perfect. He could argue for it. "We'll be more useful in the field if we're together."

Fury grunted noncommittally, turning and looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. "I want the reports on those bodies detailed and on my desk by tomorrow morning."

That was dismissal enough. Steve looked at his teammates and nodded to the door. "Yes, Sir." He led them out into the hallway and to the elevator.

"You risked the anger of a powerful man," Loki observed to Eleanore as soon as the door closed them into the small space.

"Not anger," Elle corrected, "frustration maybe. But at least we're not getting split up again anytime soon."

Steve debated asking more about that, about what the contract contained, but he knew SHIELD definitely had listening devices everywhere in the Triskelion. He decided to present a united front as the elevator neared sub-level three. "Miss Ewing seemed to know what she was doing."

"She really does," Elle agreed. "She's Pepper's contract negotiation lawyer, specializing in labor negotiations. Pepper filled her in when I started here, and again for now. Hopefully we can just leave it after this."

The elevator stopped then to let more people on. Elle stepped back from her position nearest the door to stand between Steve and Loki as six agents piled in and pressed the button for sub-level six. Everyone was quiet to the point of awkwardness. The strangers were actively trying not to glance back at the Avengers, and Steve was doing his best to seem like he didn't notice.

But at least Loki seemed less hostile toward Steve now, and they were about to make some progress on the mystery of the sorcerer. And Steve was feeling so much better after his unprecedented amount of sleep. He was a little hungry, but he could wait for hours before it got uncomfortable. The day was looking up.

The elevator went dark as they descended belowground. About thirty seconds later, the machine beeped at them and opened its doors to their level.

"Loki," Elle said once they disembarked and the doors closed, "do you want any of the kids down here?"

"They'd be vastly preferable to either of you." Loki scowled. "Must you stick your noses into this danger?"

"We could stay in the observation room," Steve suggested.

Loki's scowl turned on him specifically. _"You_ should. You've already been exposed to this without any protection." He looked down at Eleanore. "You may ask Banner to lend his insight, but keep your Starks away. And you don't touch the bodies yourself."

"Oh, I'm helping?" Elle raised her eyebrows at Steve. "Okay." She pulled out her phone and texted Bruce a quick message.

Steve wondered if Elle had become a type of buffer herself, between Loki and Earth's scientists. Probably. She seemed to know what was going on, most of the time. Steve himself wouldn't be useful except as a sounding board. He'd stay out of the way unless he was needed. A lot of investigating was just waiting for other people to do their side of the work, so the team could function together. He was more than accustomed to this.

"You're already protected," Loki replied nonchalantly. "May as well put my work to use."

 _Huh?_ Steve noticed how the demigod smirked at his confusion.

"He put a protection spell on me the other night," Elle explained. "It keeps other people's magic off me."

"That sounds useful." Steve tried not to act too surprised.

"You left with your fellow mortals before I had time to shield you as well," Loki added, walking down the hallway.

 _That must be an Asgardian version of_ _'you snooze, you lose._ ' Steve accepted it and kept up with Loki's pace as they rounded the circular hallway. Guards were stationed in front of a door, guns in hand. They opened the door without a word, and Steve followed Loki and Elle into a room that connected the decontamination entrance to the lab and the observation deck. The decontamination room was sealed behind two glass doors. The observation room was up an open staircase to the right. No guards were in any of the rooms, but there were three security cameras in the entry section alone.

"Good luck," Steve said to his team, heading for the stairs. He climbed to the top and found a large window with a row of six chairs set on a platform above it and a lower area for standing room. There was a water cooler, and a door that led to a hallway near a bathroom. Steve checked out the location before standing close to the glass to watch his team work.

The lab they entered was not so different from the one Rouldkin had controlled when he'd been experimenting on Steve illegally. This one was just a bit bigger and devoid of exercise equipment. Instead, there were four slabs, one for each body bag, with surgical instruments set on little trays along their sides. A couple computers sat on desks on the back wall, their screens black. Cameras and microphones hung from the ceiling above each body to record scientists' observations. Speakers in the observation deck gave onlookers clear audio through the bulletproof glass.

Loki walked into the room first, cautiously. He made his way over to the closest body and stared at it for a good minute, unmoving. Then he turned back to the decontamination room and nodded for Elle to enter as well.

She did, carrying a tablet she'd gotten from somewhere in the last two minutes. Steve wondered if the Starks and their friends could somehow just summon technology on a whim.

"Bruce will be here in a few minutes," she reported from Loki's side. "What are we looking at?"

"You're looking at a dead body," Loki responded snidely.

"No shit, Sherlock," Elle laughed. "What do you see?"

"Very little at the moment." Loki looked up and met Steve's eyes in the window. "What did you use to seal them?"

"A thermal blanket," Steve said.

Loki frowned and kept looking at him.

"We can't hear you, Steve," Elle informed him. "Is there an intercom button somewhere?"

Steve glanced around and found a covered panel set into the window sill. He opened it and pressed the touch screen button labeled 'Talk'. "We used those foil thermal blankets from the quinjet."

"Oh, smart," Elle complimented. She explained to Loki, "Like tin foil. It's reflective. They wrapped the bodies in them to keep the energy inside."

"Hm." Loki turned his attention back to the corpses.

The door to the observation room opened, admitting Tony and Darren. Tony was empty-handed, but Darren had a small duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, Captain Spangles," Tony greeted him. "Here for the 4:30 magic show?"

"Anything yet?" Darren asked, ignoring his father's rhetorical jibe.

"Nothing so far," Steve said.

"Why's Princess in there with Blitzen?" Tony asked suspiciously, peering down at them.

Steve kept himself planted in front of the intercom, unwilling to let Tony interfere. "Loki said she could help observe."

"He's got protection on her," Darren added.

"So we just let them… what? Poke the dead guys until they talk?"

"I think they'll do a lot more than that," Steve assured Tony. _But speaking of talking dead men_ _…_ "What's the progress on Tiryaki?"

"Not much," Tony reported more seriously. "He gave up the safe houses, then refused to eat, and now he's on a full hunger strike. They have him on a constant guard and an IV."

Steve would have to weigh his sense of right and wrong against how much he wanted to wring Tiryaki's neck when they next met. It was inconvenient.

But Bruce walked into the lab then, wearing a white Haz-Mat suit so all they could see was his curly, bespectacled head. "You guys aren't dressed for an autopsy."

Loki shrugged. "You may do the dissembling, Doctor Banner. I am here to observe the magic."

"Oh, thanks." Bruce was cordial and sarcastic at the same time. "Leave me all the dirty work."

Loki smirked at him. "I can make it up to you with a meal of your spaghetti."

"Ha ha," Bruce deadpanned just as Elle said, "Ew."

Had the whole team bonded while Steve was gone? He remembered Elle saying something about Loki liking Bruce Banner. Apparently 'liking' was the correct term here. Steve had just assumed the demigod found quiet, unassuming Bruce less annoying than Tony. But here they were, sharing what seemed to be an inside joke over decaying bodies.

And Loki's smile widened as he got a reaction from both his coworkers.

"So," Bruce said after a second, "you want me to unzip them too?"

"No," Loki said. "Stand back, actually, toward the doors. Run at the first sign of danger."

"Because you're Mr. Safety?" Tony muttered under his breath.

"Actually, he's right to be cautious," Darren said at a normal volume from Steve's other side. "I can barely see something leaking from the bag. Who knows what will spill out when he opens it?"

"Leaking, like… dripping?" Tony asked. "How soupy are these guys?"

"I'll show you," Darren said, opening his duffel bag and pulling out a spectrometer camera. He handed it to Steve for a second, also retrieving cords and a slim laptop from a case. He plugged the cords into the camera to connect it to the laptop, then set the computer on the wide window sill in front of them, booting it up. He took the camera back from Steve and put it on a little tripod next to the laptop, angling it down at the experimenters. "Jarvis, give me four splits of thermal, ultra-violet, optical, and magnetic. Direct to Bruce and Elle's tablets, too."

The computer's display lit up and split into four smaller images. In all of them, Loki was a bright figure while Elle and Bruce were barely visible in the background. The bodies around the room also spilled dregs of color onto the floor like heavy smoke. Much less than Steve had seen in Oman, but still similar.

Elle and Bruce were at the door, watching Loki watch the bodies again. Loki stood still for a good while, and to the naked eye he looked like he wasn't doing anything. But the spectrometer lit him up like a beacon, dimming everything. Four bursts of energy left his body to settle just above the corpses in a floating, contained mass.

"What the hell," Tony breathed to no one.

"I think it's a containment precaution," Darren explained to both of them. "He won't let the magic re-form into anything dangerous. The bodies might get messed up, but no one else will."

"Can you do that?" Steve asked, curious about the younger man's knowledge.

"Me? No." Darren shook his head. "I've just read about it. I don't have a ton of practical application for magic. I'm hoping Loki will teach me something while he's here."

"Yeah," Tony interjected, "because we need another batshit crazy—"

"— Guy who's helping us out?" Steve interrupted him flatly. "Because that's all he's done, Tony."

"That you _know_ of," Tony challenged, not taking his eyes from Loki on the screen. "A little convenient that he was there when Tiryaki magicked you, and then at the hospital, and then at the memorial. You're overlooking connections, Cap."

"You're making coincidences into correlations," Darren said. "And correlation doesn't equal causation, anyway. His magic and the whatevers' are different, Dad."

"So _you_ say," Tony said to his son. "Are you telling me the best sorcerer in the universe—"

"— in the Nine Realms," Darren corrected him.

"— Whatever. The best magic guy couldn't just make himself look innocent?"

"Even if he could, Tony, he can't with us." Steve could see why Loki was getting worn down from such a suspicious, tense routine. "He's been with Elle this whole time, and me most of the time. He _saved_ me from Tiryaki twice. Led us to him at the memorial. What's your evidence against him?"

"Other than my broken city?" Tony challenged. His brown eyes narrowed and he frowned up at Steve.

"Other than when he was mind controlled," Steve asserted. _What_ _'s that about 'good conflict,' Elle? Because I don't think there's a 'right' way to handle this._

"And you just believe him when he says that!" Tony threw up his hands and stalked to the other end of the platform. He turned back to point at Steve. "You're naive for an old guy."

Steve clenched his jaw, reminding himself that Darren probably wouldn't take any insults to his father well. The younger Stark absolutely hated personal conflict— avoided it as much as possible. It wasn't fair to make the kid watch this fight, really, but what choice was there? Steve made his voice even, though that meant it was also flat and emotionless. "I trust my team. And we need to trust each other."

"Yeah, let's just buddy up to a killer." Tony crossed his arms over his chest, pulling his t-shirt tight enough to reveal the arc reactor's glow. "You haven't seen him these past few days. No one can just one-eighty like he does. He's got a plan, and he's keeping it to himself."

"We're all guilty of something," Steve said broadly, thinking of the two assassins he'd just gone on assignment with. Tony had sold dangerous weapons, unwittingly, to terrorists. Bruce's alter-ego smashed where it pleased, if directed by rage. Thor had definitely seen battle before, and Jet had probably nabbed as many Vanir as he could during fights in his undeterminedly long life. Elle and Darren might be the only Avengers _not_ to have actually murdered someone, and they were fine with gore if it meant keeping their friends safe. Killing and the associated guilt came with this job.

And besides, he didn't believe Loki had a plan. The future was too uncertain, and he was on an unfamiliar planet. Maybe he wanted to earn Steve and Elle's trust to escape more quickly, but there was only so much he could do to speed that along.

"If you're done arguing," Loki said then through the speakers, drawing their attention back to the lab. He was watching them through the window with something like amusement in his eyes, though the rest of his face was stern. "Though it is an entertaining pantomime, I would like to examine these corpses in a timely fashion."

Steve resolved to ignore Tony's quips from there on. He nodded down to Loki and tried to look encouraging. He caught sight of his reflection in the glass and found he ended up looking constipated.

Loki looked away after the nod, focusing again on the corpse's container. Steve stepped back to see him and the images on the laptop at the same time. Loki unzipped the bag to reveal the shiny foil of the blanket. He wrinkled his nose, and Steve saw some magic flash next to his face, covering his nose and mouth. The smell was probably terrible by now, even if they'd refrigerated the bodies on the drones.

"That one's from Oman," Elle said from beside the door, a hand over her own nose and mouth. "Unidentified, but SHIELD thinks he immigrated to Turkey from somewhere else."

"Fascinating," Loki said dryly. He pulled the bag back from the body and began unwrapping the blanket gingerly. Then, all at once, he flipped the cover off and exposed the corpse.

The computer showed what Steve could only describe as a poof of energy, like a cloud, that expanded and collapsed to the floor without a sound.

"Woah," Darren said to himself.

"What?" Steve asked.

"That's a _lot_ of magic for a days-old dead guy," Darren explained in an unconscious whisper. He kept his eyes trained on the screen now. "Jarvis, status update on the new drones."

" _Ten hours to completion, Master Darren._ " Jarvis's voice came from the computer this time.

"Re-allocate all resources to speed things up." Darren frowned at the screen, sounding lost in thought.

"Hey," Tony protested. "I have a few time-sensitive projects going."

"If we're fighting this, we'll be glad those drones are in the air." Darren brushed his father's concerns aside easily.

"Not your call, junior," Tony said easily. "You could take a page from your wacky girlfriend's book and _communicate_."

Darren flashed him an annoyed look across Steve's body. "Or you could give up your assembly line for three hours so we can detect whether or not this guy's in DC or New York."

Steve hadn't heard the Starks arguing seriously before. He was uncomfortable. But he stayed in front of the intercom and tried to focus on what Loki and Bruce were now discussing.

"… can you tell the— the intention?" Bruce was asking, peering over his glasses at the tablet in his hands.

"Well, my initial instinct leads me to believe the magician meant to kill them." Loki said sarcastically, even as he beckoned with one hand. "You can approach now. Just don't touch the corpse."

Bruce and Elle walked over. Bruce took a place across the table from Loki while Elle stood at the demigod's side.

"Is this what you see?" Elle asked, showing Loki the display on her tablet.

Loki frowned at it. "That is a poor interpretation." He glanced up to Banner. "Doctor, how will your… friend react to a change in your vision?"

"It's fine if I know it's coming," Bruce assured him.

"Very well." Loki held up a hand coated in green light.

Steve watched as Elle and Bruce stiffened and blinked. He couldn't see anything change except their reactions. Bruce looked from Loki to the corpse to Elle and back, mouth agape. Elle stared at her own hands in disbelief.

"It's white," she said, sounding confused. She looked to Loki and squinted. "You're greenish."

"And this is… a mess," Bruce added, gesturing to the body laid out in front of them.

"It's the product of unnatural power," Loki explained calmly. "Eleanore and I were born to our abilities; they are entangled in our essences. Whoever accomplished this is directing something they don't know. It's an abomination, really. I am interested as to how it came about."

"Can you see it?" Darren asked Steve.

"No," Steve said. "What am I missing?"

"I think I can show you. Might take a second." Darren held up a blue-lit palm and reached for Steve's forehead. "Sorry if this is weird. It's the only technique I know."

"It's—" Steve was going to say it was fine, but the moment Darren's middle finger touched his forehead, he was fighting to keep his eyes open. Blue light assaulted his vision, emanating from the man in front of him. It lit Darren's veins and muscles and bones, shining most brightly through his eyes and mouth when he opened them. It dimmed as his hand receded back to his side, and Steve could have been staring at a creative outline of the human (not-so-human) form. Flames seemed to lick from his exposed skin— hands, face, hair. When he touched the windowsill, it glowed with an afterimage of his fingerprints.

"Gonna share with the class?" Tony's voice made Darren's now-visible heart pick up speed just slightly.

Steve turned to look over at the annoying man as well, but his eyes caught the three beings below.

Loki was 'greenish' in a very bright way. It looked like an inferno was burning beneath his skin. No veins and muscles were visible because he was all light. However, unlike Darren, there were no flames outside his body. He was contained completely, a perfect image of control. Above him, his spell was a duller version of the same energy, also contained and constant.

Next to him, Elle was a wisp of silver-white. Much dimmer, more of an outline than Darren was. She was also more… metallic was the only word Steve could feel relatively comfortable with. It was like her magic was a fixture, not a force. It was also brightest around her heart.

Bruce even shone a little bit, although looking at him was like looking at the faint outline of the darkened moon instead of the stars (Elle and Darren) or the sun (Loki). His body was just there, outlined instead of illuminated.

Before them, the corpse was… wrong. It wasn't one color, but many, all of them sludgy and dull. Steve got impressions of brown and puke-green that dripped like slime onto the floor and dispersed into clear darkness. It made Steve's stomach turn, to compare _that_ to any of the living beings before him. He saw what Loki meant about 'unnatural.' He also saw what Darren meant about Loki's magic and whatever was attached to that body being totally different.

It was then that Steve realized he couldn't see anything _except_ magic anymore. Everything else about his surroundings was dark. Not pitch-black, just _dark_ , with an absence of color and light.

"Here, Dad." Darren stepped around Steve from behind, so Steve turned to watch something happen. Darren's body flashed bright as he reached for Tony's forehead; nearly as luminous as Loki was without a spell. His magic hit Tony's head like glass breaking into atoms.

"Holy shit," Tony whispered. His body was also just an outline to Steve. He faced his son for a long moment, then gripped the invisible window sill clumsily and surveyed the group below.

They were still standing in place, looking up and around as well. Steve saw Loki shuffling impatiently. This was probably old-hat to him, growing up around magic-as-technology.

"Is this how you see all the time?" Elle asked him.

"No," Loki chuckled. "Nor Darren Stark. We can observe magic without having our other sight stripped away." He reached out again and flashed _so brightly_ like a sunbeam from a cloud.

Steve resisted the urge to squint or blink against the light. He watched some green coalesce around Elle's eyes and pull away, back toward Loki's hand. A second later, the same thing happened to Bruce.

"I can put you back," Darren offered from between Steve and Tony.

"Okay," Steve agreed, still feeling numb from the displays. Another poke on the forehead from Darren, and he could see everything around him again. But with his sight came a sense of absence, like he was missing something important.

"We should continue," Loki said resolutely. He led Bruce and Elle to the next body— this one also from Oman— and unwrapped it again.

An hour passed quickly, with Bruce and Elle both asking new questions now and Tony and Steve watching in stunned silence. Darren would occasionally mutter something under his breath and adjust the camera to follow their movements, but he was quiet as well otherwise.

"It seems to have been the same spell," Loki concluded upon finding the last body from Siberia. "However, the technique and execution are abnormal."

"What's normal?" Elle asked.

"Perhaps I misspoke," Loki corrected himself, regarding her contemplatively. "It's not _efficient_. Not what I would do at all, if I wanted to kill four men at the same time thousands of miles apart."

"What would you do?" Bruce asked lightly.

"I'd stick the spells to them beforehand, to activate," Loki replied with uncharacteristic openness. "You saw how the magic leaks from everywhere. They were blasted, immersed. Look." He picked up the corpse's arm, which bent sickeningly in a curve. "They're boneless because they were pummeled. It's such a waste of energy. The sorcerer could have simply stopped their hearts or their brains or severed their spines…" He trailed off, replacing the arm with a soft _thud_.

"It's brutal," Elle mused.

"They're showing off," Bruce decided. "Showing that they _can_ do this. It's a challenge."

"Targeting the mortal Steven Rogers with magic, and now challenging him?" Loki shook his head. "This is ridiculous. We are being toyed with by an idiot."

"The idiot could _not_ want Steve," Elle suggested. "They could want someone who can see the magic. Darren or you."

Loki blinked at her for a moment. "You're right."

Elle grinned. "Don't sound so surprised," she said, repeating his remark from before.

Steve was faced with two urges: to chuckle at the exchange and to sigh at the possibilities. They'd mistaken the target all this time. Who knew what else they'd missed because of that? Was there a message near the bodies that only Loki could read? Was Darren being drawn out to create new tech for this enemy?

"Sure they're not taunting SHIELD itself?" Bruce asked. "Yes, you two can see the magic, but SHIELD's a bigger target. More glory and attention if this guy's a psycho."

"Perhaps," Loki hedged. "I would also question why these four were killed. They could know nothing of Tiryaki's new affiliation."

"Distraction?" Bruce posited.

"Showing off," Elle said. "Loki said it's a huge waste of energy. They're showing they have power to spare."

"Perhaps," Loki said again. "I should like to have seen the place these corpses were… left." His eyes widened, and he slammed a hand down, denting the table.

Elle and Bruce jumped a little. So did Steve, if he was being honest with himself. He watched Loki inhale and let out a shuddering breath.

"Left?" Elle prompted quietly.

" _Left_!" Loki exclaimed. "They can _transport_ , don't you see?"

"Oh." Elle nodded. "Like you can."

"Jesus Christ," Bruce muttered. "They could be anywhere."

" _Not_ like me," Loki pointed out. "They sent these bodies across a continent. I would…" he stopped and pulled himself together. The excitement was visibly quashed into firm, calm explanation. "It's where this magic came from. It's why the bodies are demolished. They were destroyed as an experiment, sent to two different places at relatively the same time. This sorcerer of yours is exploring their powers."

"So they… fucked up?" Eleanore asked.

"They did," Loki confirmed. "They may have exhausted themselves with such a task. Impossible to retrieve the corpses when you can't even walk."

"Were they trying to copy you?" Bruce asked.

Loki's hand on the table tightened into a fist. "That is highly likely. Almost certainly, they saw me remove Steve from the hospital."

Well, he was 'Steve' again for the moment. Probably because Loki was distracted, but still. It was a sign of comfort, at least. Steve leaned forward to watch the debate.

"So if we catch them before they can transport," Elle began, "we could beat them to… being good at magic."

"Transporting is supremely difficult to accomplish," Loki said. "We have time. Especially since a mortal won't have access to any of the literature."

"How many people can do it?" Bruce inquired.

Loki shot him a glance, then a smirk. "The last capable sorcerer died two thousand years before I was born."

"God damn," Elle said appreciatively. At the same time, Bruce muttered, "Wow."

Loki hid his preening poorly. But then he grew serious again very quickly. "This means they aren't targeting anyone specific. Not Darren or I, and not the Captain."

"We could speculate away from the smelly bodies," Elle suggested quickly.

"I second that," Bruce said. "Back to the upstairs lab?"

"Very well." Loki waved a hand, and the bodies were re-wrapped and zipped back into their bags. The trio left the room as one unit.

"That's our cue." Tony seemed to have recovered from his earlier shock and awe. "Back up to where the world sort-of makes sense!"

"Actually, it makes sense here," Darren said, even as he stuffed the spectrometer back into the duffel bag, and he and Steve fell into step behind Tony and filed into the upper hall. "If you listen to the explanations—"

"I know, I know." Tony pressed the button for the elevator. It beeped almost immediately, doors sliding back to reveal Loki, Elle, and Bruce. "Well, if it isn't the wonder crew."

"You can quit fighting with Steve every chance you get," Elle told him with a scowl.

"Ah!" Tony put a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt! How do you know the Star Spangled Man didn't pick his battle?"

The entire elevator full of Avengers let out scoffs in varying degrees.

"Oh, you're all priceless." Tony crossed his arms and pouted.

Different conversations emerged during the ride up. Darren maneuvered over to Loki and started spouting magical terminology like a fountain, including Elle in his informational barrage. Bruce started talking to Tony about how the spectrometer had performed. Tony rose back out of his sulk to talk science.

Steve listened to them contentedly. His earlier fears about teamwork seemed a long way from the crowded space. So did the Battle for New York, and all the fighting on the Helicarrier. They'd come such a long way in a short amount of time. There were still issues to work out, but any team had conflict. They'd learn how to handle it.

The elevator beeped, and everyone filed out toward the lab doors. Elle caught up with Steve and grinned. "Good show?"

"Great work," he replied emphatically. "Did you see your own magic?"

"Yeah, weird isn't it?" She glanced at her hands again. "I wonder how the empath thing works, though. I'm all contained like Loki."

"You draw others' emotions out for analysis," Loki commented from Steve's left.

"Oh." Elle accepted that. Then she stopped with a frown just outside the lab doors. "I don't know why I came up here. I need to take Jet to the meadow."

"Take my car?" Steve offered, digging in his pocket for the keys.

"Thanks." Elle accepted them. "Try not to piss Loki off too much, so he'll take you home. I'll see you there later." She jingled the keys and walked back to the elevator without a backward glance.

Steve turned and entered the lab. Loki and Darren were already looking over the collected data from the laptop. Tony and Bruce were taking apart the spectrometer from Darren's bag. The 'kids' were gone for the most part, except for Dr. Salfield, who was working on another spectrometer on a table. Seeing as the Avengers ignored both him and Steve in favor of more magical discussion, Steve approached to introduce himself to the only scientist Loki seemed not to hate.

"Working overtime?" he asked genially, noting the time at six forty-five.

"Huh?" Dr. Salfield looked up at him, startled. "Oh, I… guess it's late. I lost track of time." He looked around the vacated lab and shook his head. "Bad habit. Sorry." He wiped his hand on his lab coat, leaving a patch of dust behind, and held it out for courtesy. "I'm Cecil— Dr. Salfield. Most people still call me Cecil. It's an honor to meet you Captain Rogers." He seemed quiet, smart, and not arrogant at all.

Steve liked the kid immediately. He shook his hand with a friendly grin. "Most people call me Steve. Well, most of my friends. When they're in a good mood."

Cecil grinned back. "I guess it must be strange to wake up to all this… magic."

"Well, we had the Tesseract back in my day." _And thank God it_ _'s off Earth finally._ "Must be strange for a scientist to find out magic is real."

"I'm just an engineer with a Ph. D, really," Cecil admitted. "I'm going to start working on my second degree soon, but… yeah. I'm all for breaking the laws of physics where I can."

Steve nodded to the spectrometer. "Any luck with this?"

"It seems not to want to break the law." Cecil smiled at the equipment fondly, like it was a misbehaving child. "The sensors pick up the energy, but they can't interpret it."

The boy's stomach rumbled just then, loud and insistent. He clamped a hand over it, but it was too late.

Steve chuckled. "Why don't you give it a rest for tonight? Get some food, at least."

"Thanks, I think I will." Cecil started clearing up the work bench, sorting the parts into neat piles and topping them off with a note that said, ' _Do not disturb_ '. "It was great to meet you," he said again, meandering toward the door.

Steve let him go and decided to tune back into whatever Loki was talking about now. It sounded like a bunch of theory, from his tone. Something about perfecting a location in one's mind, which took decades of practice.

"You can't just _go_ ," he was telling Darren.

"I know, and it's not about latitude and longitude," Darren added. "It's about sensing your place in the universe. I've done the reading. Hey," he greeted Steve as he made his way over. "Where's Elle? Bathroom?"

"Meadow," Steve informed him.

"Oh yeah. She wanted to do that today." He yawned and stretched his arms out to the side. "You guys hungry? We could find something off-campus."

"I kind of wanted to get outside myself," Steve admitted. He looked at Loki with a shrug. "What do you say? Spar in the great outdoors?"

Loki scrutinized him. "Anything to put off reporting my findings, I suppose."

Darren laughed. "Alright, see you later. I should get back to the Tower to check on the drones, anyway."

"Getting out of this swamp town?" Tony asked excitedly from twenty feet away. "Let's carpool!"

"I'll drive," Bruce volunteered forcefully.

It appeared their merry band was breaking up anyway. Steve nodded to the door and Loki went with him.

"Good work today." Steve tried the compliment out to see if Loki would act angry without anyone else around.

The demigod didn't break his stride. "A great deal of discovery is based on luck, I find."

"Have you ever researched like this?"

"Not in a thousand years," Loki said with a rueful grimace. "You mortals dash about after each other like wolf pups chasing a dragonfly."

"Who wins in that scenario?" Steve asked as they neared the elevator.

"Again, that depends on luck." Loki stopped walking just before they got to the elevator. "You have a car here."

"I gave Elle the keys to get back to the apartment," Steve explained.

"So I am nothing more than transportation."

"No!" Steve protested. "I mean, it would be nice if you'd take us, but we can catch the bus back to the apartment if you—"

"— Oh stop your blathering," Loki laughed outright. "I shouldn't jest at your expense, I see."

"… Oh." Steve hadn't picked up on the 'jest' at all. He'd been to worried about sparking Loki's anger again. Looking back, he realized Elle never treated the demigod any different, whether he was angry or not. That must have been what she meant by 'treat him normally.' "Well, are we going?"

"We are." Loki grabbed his forearm and pulled them through dark space and into the meadow in the blink of an eye.

Steve expected to feel sick when he actually processed where they were, but he didn't. "Do you get used to that?" he asked, looking around the empty grassland. Far above them, he found Jet flapping into the cover of a spare cloud in the deep blue sky.

"You may," Loki said, "but I made sure to smooth the way this time."

"So before, you made us almost throw up on purpose."

"Yes." The other man practically begged him to make something of it.

Steve didn't really care. "You good to fight in those clothes?"

Loki looked down at his slacks and button-up dress shirt and leather shoes. In a golden-beamed instant, he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and his feet were bare. "Are _you_ able to keep pace with me?" he challenged.

This jest was obvious. "We'll see, old man."

"You'll eat those words before we're done here." Loki launched into a kick that blurred in Steve's vision.

They fought hard, barely pulling their punches at all. The grass was not soft for a landing, and Steve ended up getting dirt smeared over his entire body as he hit the ground again and again. He usually managed to get back on his feet before Loki could 'end' him. When he couldn't, he caught the limb flying at him, whether it was a foot or an arm, and tried to twist it for an advantage. That rarely worked.

And when Jet landed in a _whoosh_ of wind and flying leaves, they both got distracted. Steve was mid-swing, and Loki's eyes darted to the side at just the wrong moment. Steve clocked him across the jaw much harder than he should have, knocking the guy sprawling.

"God, Steve, you don't have to knock him out!" Elle slid off Jet's back and sauntered over, not looking too worried.

Steve felt awful for the hit, especially when Loki put a hand up to his jaw and worked it cautiously.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching a hand down and hoping the demigod would accept it. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard."

"I've caused you a great deal more pain in previous bouts." Loki let Steve haul him to his feet. "It was an honorable hit. Cherish the memory, for it will never happen again." He finished with a real grin.

Steve chuckled. "We'll see about that."

"Though there is one person truly to blame," Loki continued, turning on Elle and raising a brow at her. "It's most dishonorable to help one man win a match."

"We were just landing," she retorted calmly.

"I don't believe you."

"Facts are true whether you believe them or not."

Steve was pleased to see that both his teammates had developed these genial arguments further. Elle played to _win_ when she discussed things, and Loki had previously seemed to enjoy talking things through in a roundabout fashion.

In this case, Loki shook his head and chuckled. "Until your facts are disproven by more advanced ones."

Elle laughed too. "That's pretty fun, actually." She watched Jet, who stretched and yawned in a magnificent display of glittering scales, deadly teeth, and sharp claws. Then the dragon sauntered off to the building for his weekly feast.

Steve noticed the conversation winding down. "Take a turn at kicking me across the field?"

Elle wrinkled her nose. "I don't like sparring with my friends. But if you teach me some stuff, I'd be willing to learn."

Steve found that strange, but he resolved to ask her about it later. She could probably learn a plenty about straight hand-to-hand from himself and Loki anyway. With the light slowly fading from the sky, there was time for a quick lesson. "Sure."

What followed was the most interesting training session Steve had ever led. Elle listened to his instructions at first, and Loki stood off to the side and watched them in silence. Steve started Eleanore off with avoidance and footwork, just to see what she could do. She was alright, as he'd seen in previous battles, just not nearly as fast as an enhanced human or an Asgardian.

"Don't turn your back," he said, when Elle blocked a mock swing and spun around to 'stab' him in the side.

"I can tell where you are," Elle informed him.

"You trust your extra senses entirely too much," Loki chimed in, finally. "If you ever lose them, you'll be helpless."

"Mmph." Elle grunted, shrugged, and accepted it. "What should I do, then?"

Steve taught her how to stay in close to larger assailants' bodies so reach wasn't an issue, and how to get out of a couple different holds. Loki added some pointers, but he didn't really join the lesson. Eventually, it got too dark to see properly and Jet came back from eating. Elle suggested having leftovers back at the apartment.

The drive home started off in silence. Jet and Elle sat in the back seat again, both staring at the patchy clouds. Loki watched the road, and Steve drove.

"But we already beat the magician," Eleanore said into the quiet.

Steve glanced at Loki, who met his eyes and turned back to look at their mutant healer. "What are you talking about?"

"You've got them beat," Elle said, as though that were obvious. "You're the best. So it's really more a problem of location than a fight." Steve heard her shifting in her seat, leaning forward. "Jarvis, what's a good middle point between Siberia and Oman?"

" _The Liaoning province of China is approximately midway between both sites_ ," Jarvis answered.

"Send a Stark satellite over and start scanning for inexplicable activity." This was a new side of Eleanore, naturally commanding and in control. Ignoring Steve and Loki for the most part, staring out the window to her left with a look of concentration. "How many really fast observational drones do we have? SHIELD and Stark."

" _Masters Stark use no such technology at present. Records from the Helicarrier indicate that SHIELD employs ten such aircraft, seven of which are capable of cloaking._ _"_

"Send this data over to Hill, and suggest rigging up a cloaking drone with the latest spectrometers they have. After that, keep searching for potential base sites, and have Darren and Tony get to work on some tech that we can use ourselves." Elle finished the orders with a firm sense of finality.

"You're very confident of your findings," Loki mused. "The magician could be somewhere else entirely."

Steve looked in the mirror and saw Elle shrug and give a defiantly friendly grin in response to Loki's tone. "Gotta start somewhere."

"And what do you propose to do with this sorcerer once you find them?" Loki pressed.

"What do you think we should do?" Elle asked in return.

"Kill them." Loki was still half-turned toward Steve, gauging both reactions.

Steve couldn't tell if the demigod had gone straight to violence to make an impression, or if he really thought they should just execute their prisoner. Asgard definitely had such punishments, as they'd seen. Loki himself was facing it, if Steve or Elle kicked the bucket. Still, just because Asgard did it didn't mean it was correct.

Before Steve could protest about due process and trials, Elle spoke up. "Don't you want to learn about their magic first?"

Steve bit back a smile at that. He was finding, more and more, that he really shouldn't have been worried about leaving Loki with Eleanore at all. Loki seemed to take Elle's statements in stride, for the most part, even going so far as to joke with her. Elle was unfazed by Loki's more outspoken comments.

And Loki, for his part, seemed surprised at how accepting she was. He recovered quickly, though, turning around to watch the city close around their car. "They're far too dangerous, even for that. I could not guarantee anyone's safety because I have no idea of their limits." Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Loki's expression darken dangerously.

"First we have to find them," Steve commented, trying to get them back on track. "Elle, what about satellites? Darren and Tony making some of those?"

"It's slow work," Elle reported. "They want to be sure that the satellites are as up-to-date as possible before they launch, because updating them is a bitch— burdensome piece of work."

Again, the cursing was no worse than Steve had heard in the Army. Since it was Elle, he didn't mind half as much as if it were, say, Tony, who never thought before he spoke. He'd always been taught not to use foul language in front of a lady, but he'd never been told what to do if the lady was the one cussing. Since Elle also hadn't apologized, Steve just ignored it.

He also enjoyed how she could go from drunken sailor to articulate professor in the blink of an eye.

"Got a time estimate for the launch?" he asked next, pulling the car off the interstate and onto the more residential-business road that led toward the apartment building.

"Tony and Darren don't do time estimates," Elle informed him.

When she didn't follow up on that statement, Steve glanced at Loki in confusion. Loki looked pretty disinterested. "What do you mean they don't do time estimates?"

"I mean they… don't? I guess they're used to working for themselves. Darren rerouted all the resources to the slower drones today, and I bet they divide their time between magical detection research and creating the drones and satellite equipment, so I'm guessing next week we'll have the first launch if they're willing to rush." She got out of the car as soon as Steve parked it, and waited for the other two men before heading for the building.

"And if your Starks are unwilling to rush?" Loki asked, ducking through the stairwell door ahead of Steve.

"I'm sure they will be," Elle assured them. "But our definitions of 'rush' are different. They like to.. Well, Pepper and I call it game trailing. They find something new, and follow that scent for a while. Darren can go to his lab to work on a new motherboard, and he can come back up with a new car."

"So we have to keep them on track." Steve summed up the revelation with a frown.

"It's not that bad," Elle encouraged, unlocking her apartment. "Actually, Bruce has been keeping Tony focused a lot more. Who wants what for leftovers?"

Steve pondered the new information as they sat down to a dinner of assorted foods under the warm light of the lamps. Jet headed into Eleanore's bedroom to flop onto the bed. Loki and Elle moved on to talking about the younger scientists. They avoided Cecil, but Loki had clearly learned the others' names just so he could complain about them. Elle chuckled at his creative annoyance, but she defended the kids stubbornly. The best she could say about some of them was, "Well, at least they haven't had time to develop any bad habits," to which Loki replied, "Yes, nor any true skill."

Steve found himself laughing at their discourse from time to time, though he tried to hide it so he wouldn't distract them. They'd done enough work for today, he decided, and they needed some time to figure out this magician more completely. In the meantime, it was great to watch the building friendship between their 'prisoner' and the team.

"But it's not like you have to actually teach them," Elle was saying, "so much as use them to do drudge— oh Steve!" she interrupted herself and focused on him again. "How was the mission, really? You only talked about the bodies."

So Steve was drawn into the conversation himself. He told Elle and Loki about his past few days, including how impressive Clint and Natasha were when they were working. He mentioned learning how to pilot, and meeting Hall in England. As he spoke, he recalled how much information they'd gathered from simple fieldwork.

"Do we have a jet ready to take us to China, if it pans out?" he asked.

"There's one on top of the gym," Elle told him. "It's Tony's, but he said it's for Avenger use, so we don't have to rely on SHIELD authorization all the time."

That was good. "Any word from Hill on the drones?" Steve asked next.

"She just confirmed reading the text," Elle said, stretching and yawning openly. "I'll leave my phone on loud tonight, in case she has something to say. But I'm going to bed now." She rose and put her plate in the dishwasher before heading into the bathroom.

Charlie had been sleeping in her lap. Now disturbed, he thudded a jump to the floor and wound around Loki's ankles. Then he approached Steve's seat on the couch and rubbed his nose along Steve's offered fingers.

Steve thought about asking Loki to explain the mind control to him further, debating whether a better understanding of the problem would be worth potentially making the problem worse. He open his mouth to speak a couple times, but he couldn't make the wording sound right in his head. _You thinking of killing us anytime soon? How can we help you get your brain back? Hey Loki, want to go see a psychologist?_

Before Steve could give voice to his thoughts, Loki rose without a word and copied Elle's actions, placing his dish in the dishwasher and walking back toward his room.

"Goodnight," Steve offered, wondering if he was still angry about their disagreement this morning.

"Pleasant dreams, Captain," Loki responded, closing his bedroom door.

Steve cleaned up the kitchen as quickly as he could, racing against Elle emerging from the bathroom and telling him to knock it off. He managed to get the leftovers put away and the dishwasher started before she came out.

"Oh, I can do that," she said immediately.

Steve was struck with a memory of his first night in this apartment, after Elle had told Rouldkin off and brought him back to eat pasta. They'd come a long way in just a few weeks. "I got it this time," he said with a grin. Then he frowned. "What ever happened to meeting with Rouldkin?"

Eleanore put one hand on her hip and shifted all her weight to that foot. "Huh. I forgot about that."

"He was fired, though," Steve said, half-asking, half-confirming.

"Oh yeah. I haven't seen him since." She stared through him, thinking hard. "I don't think I've heard anything about him, though. We should ask."

"Tomorrow," Steve said. She looked pretty tired. "It can wait until then."

"Mmph." Elle eyed her phone. She didn't like to wait. Steve didn't know if it was a generational difference from access to instantaneous technology, or if she was just a go-getter.

He did know he could distract her, though. "I think Loki forgave me."

"Seems like it," she agreed with another yawn. She rubbed a palm across her eye, smearing some leftover makeup in a black streak.

Steve grinned, deciding not to tell her about it, since it would probably come off while she was asleep. "Thanks for supper. Night, Elle."

"Night Steve." She walked him to the door and locked it when he stepped into the hallway. Through the panel, Steve could hear her walking around to shut off the lights.

He retired to his own silent apartment for another night of sleep. It was good to be working again, to be chasing something down. Steve liked to have direction in his life. Purpose. For now, the magician was providing that.

And, it turned out, his earlier worries about Loki were unfounded. The guy was trying and doing a damn good job of overcoming the mind control he'd faced. The Avengers were accepting him well, too, which was something Steve hadn't dared to hope for. Clint, of all people, was giving the demigod advice on how to regain his identity. Tony was being… well. And Bruce and Darren were great at discussing science and magic, making it feel like Loki had always been on their side.

And he and Loki had had a disagreement and gotten over it in the same day. That, Steve decided, was enough for now. He'd let Loki spill his guts to Eleanore, who was a more understanding listener anyway, and he'd just stick around to help the guy take out some anger in the boxing ring. It was fine. It was plenty. It was progress.

Comforting thoughts like these lulled him to sleep.

 _ **A/N: Whew! I know I**_ _ **'ve been gone for a while, but here's the longest chapter yet to make up for it. I've been busy graduating from college with my B.A. and moving into our very first house! I have my own office now, which is absolutely amazing. I hope you all have been having an awesome spring!**_

 _ **Just a quick question: Do you guys like the longer chapters, or do you miss the shorter ones? Just so you know, I may vary chapter length greatly in the future, depending on the story.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thanks! I like making characters stop and rethink their original impressions. God knows I**_ _ **'ve done a lot of that in my own life, haha. I also like Bruce's character (and Mark Ruffalo's acting) so I wanted to make sure he wasn't left out of this story. Tony is… something, that's for sure! Hope you liked this chapter as well! Thanks for reviewing!**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **Lol, no sleep for Steve for a while. Writing the beginning of this chapter reminded me of Alec Baldwin in**_ _ **'**_ **The Hunt for Red October** **'** _ **because that character also had trouble sleeping on planes. Hope you have enjoyed another long chapter! Thanks for reviewing!**_

 **:** _ **Thank you! I am still writing this story, and I plan to continue it for a long time. I have big plans for these characters in the future. Enjoy!**_


	28. Chapter 28: L Mettle

Loki clambered clumsily from another nightmare that fled to rest in a now-familiar dark corner of his mind. He always pictured it as a cloaked figure, one whose face was obscured. It lurked on the edge of his consciousness throughout the day, a vague tightness in his chest that never completely vanished. If he managed to distract himself from it, the nightmares seemed to get worse whenever he slept next.

Since Steve had returned two days earlier, Loki had spent his nights reading more about computers and history from the new books Eleanore received in those flimsy brown boxes that Charlie so dearly loved. Those boxes were collecting into quite the little fortress next to the couch, and the cat sped across the floor to dive inside them at least once every couple of hours during the day. The evening before, Loki had watched the kitten's antics through heavy-lidded eyes with a fond amusement that he didn't bother to quash since no one else was in the room to see it. Charlie assumed affection from everyone, crawling up into the lap of any sitting person and stealing their left arm to curl himself around in a rumbling heap.

That recollection helped chase away the chill of whatever nightmare the Other had sent. Loki checked the timepiece beside his bed and found it was four AM. Rain pattered against the window panes. Steve would be out dashing around by now, if he'd slept at all. Loki considered using the bracelet's spell to find and join him. They had switched from the original plan of early morning exercise and fighting to sparring matches in the evenings. Eleanore participated in these, though she still asked for instruction instead of fighting directly. The evening matches let Loki vent whatever frustrations he found during the day.

But right now, he did not feel frustration or a need to fight. He felt… a curious and far too pathetic mixture of resignation and weariness. He'd gotten maybe four hours of restful sleep, which should have been plenty, but he was still tired. It was a bone-deep, settling kind of fatigue. This followed him throughout the day as well, though it was more immediate. It wore on his patience and fueled his anger to flare at the slightest spark of annoyance.

And today he had real need of patience. He was supposed to meet with Darren Stark in a private SHIELD lab to test the effect of magic on Earth's metals. The boy was not an irritant on his own, mostly speaking straight to Eleanore about anything that crossed his mind and staying quiet unless he had something to add to a discussion. But Loki would be testing _Earth_ metals, and the tedious process would definitely drag him into a bored quagmire.

In addition, Eleanore would likely not be present for the majority of the day. Loki had been in a contrary mood the evening before, and he hadn't informed her of his plans for today as she discussed her own with Steve. Agent Hill had given them the morning off, barring any unforeseen complications. Steve wanted to have a look at Tiryaki during another round of interrogation. Eleanore had volunteered to join him, apparently assuming Loki would tag along as well.

Loki was curious as to how she would react to such a slight, and how she would adapt to being unable to keep her eye on him at all times. Now that the morning had actually arrived, Loki felt a bit foolish for it. But he knew ( _hoped_ ) he could handle himself perfectly well on his own.

He knew sleep was useless at this point. No matter how long he rested, he'd still be tired. So the question was, should he rise and read in this cell of a room, or should he go out and make himself a mug of tea to remind him he was still alive and warm, no matter what icy blood flowed through his veins?

His cell phone vibrated a staccato from its perch on the chest of drawers.

Loki suppressed a groan, rubbing both hands down his face a moment before he rose to see what message was waiting for him. This early in the morning, it was most likely an emergency.

He found, however, that Lydia Engman's name and image were displayed on the bright little screen. She'd sent a message one minute before. " _If you have time, stop by for tea this morning. It_ _'s been a while._ "

Well. Loki had time to spare. He picked up the device and magically donned comfortable Asgardian clothing: black cloth trousers and a soft green tunic completed with black leather boots. Checked his appearance in the mirror and transported to the familiar little room with ease.

Lydia greeted him from her chair. "I wondered if you were up."

"I only woke a few moments ago," Loki informed her. He wasted no time in moving to the kitchen and filling a couple of mugs (Lydia's favored flowery one and a plain green one that he preferred) and heating them in the blink of an eye. He tossed a spoonful of sugar in his before retrieving two tea bags and delivering the beverages to the small seating area. "Do you normally keep such early hours?" he asked by way of conversation.

"I try to rest when I can," Lydia began, setting her mug on a 'coaster'— a little stone square that was painted over with white flowers and green leaves. "My back was hurting, though, so I moved to the chair."

Loki took a sip of the weak tea. "You have my sympathies."

"It's not so bad," she said with a smile. "I get a lot done when I'm up early. Like today, I get to have tea with you while you're not out saving the world."

Loki skimmed over the woman's optimism. "Not so much 'saving' as 'stumbling about,' I'm afraid."

"You learning anything new? Any leads?" Lydia asked in quick succession. Then she shook her head just as soon as she'd done speaking. "Never mind, I don't want to talk about work. I'm sure you get tired of it. What else have you been up to? Were you busy the other day?"

The 'other day' was a reference to Eleanore's last visit to see her mother and the mysterious Peggy a few days before. Loki shook his head. "I wasn't busy. I thought I would allow you a more private visit with your daughter." He had been so irritated that day about Steve's stupid risks around magic and the lab childrens' incompetence that he had wanted to be alone with his thoughts. The apartment was quiet for a few hours, and he had calmed considerably. And then Eleanore had returned in fairly high spirits, bringing Italian 'takeout', and the night had passed more pleasantly than not, even with the anger ever-present in the back of his mind.

Lydia smiled. "That was sweet of you."

Loki wrinkled his nose. It must be a common theme among mothers to call him 'sweet'. Frigga had done so when she'd visited the farm in Iowa. And now Lydia. But Loki wasn't sweet, not in the slightest. A sweet person wouldn't have fantasies about taking young human scientists by the throat and screaming in their faces so they would just _listen_. "Another word would be 'antisocial'," he offered. He'd heard the idiot children calling Cecil Salfield antisocial the day before when the young man continued working and shrugged off an invitation to a 'bar', and the translated Allspeak definition had struck Loki as familiar. A similar term had been ascribed to him often on Asgard, whenever he chose to read or study or develop magic instead of going along with Thor's friends.

"You're introverted, not antisocial," Lydia corrected him. "Antisocial would mean you wouldn't show up at 4 AM for tea with me. Are you hungry, by the way?"

Loki processed this new term. Lydia's meaning had no negative connotations— the Allspeak supplied him with an image of Eleanore's quiet sitting room for reference, and of her reading a book, because apparently Lydia also thought her daughter was introverted. "Is such behavior not singular on your realm?"

"No, lots of people are introverts. Elle and Zephaniah are, and so is Darren."

"Then they must be miserable constantly, as they are rarely alone at all." Midgardian social norms were strange and contradictory. Loki took a long, scalding drink of his tea to keep himself from saying anything more scornful.

"They like being with other quiet people," Lydia supplied. "Aren't you happy when you get home after a long day, and you get to just relax?"

"That sounds like something I would feel if I _had_ a home," Loki said more sharply than he meant to. Memories of his chambers on Asgard, so still and peaceful and suited to his tastes, surfaced with a great deal of force. He _longed_ for that, for all the books and calm and weeks of simply reading, watching potted plants bloom, crafting new spells.

"I guess it would be kind of a culture shock to go from… what, a palace? To my old bedroom." Lydia's smile was sympathetic, understanding. "You must miss your things, too. I've never been much of a collector, but you must have a lot of— jeeze, even a lot of birthday gifts from a thousand years."

Loki felt his mood lighten somewhat into amusement at her amazement over his age. "It's called a nameday there. And they don't celebrate much after the first century. But you're right; I did collect a fair number of artifacts, magic and otherwise." Although as he'd grown older, his interest in collecting had waned. The artifacts he did have had brought him no real joy, and he couldn't imagine loving something enough to purposely find it a place on his shelves. Bit by bit, those shelves were tainted by bitterness until he couldn't look at an item without remembering how Thor had been part of the adventure where it was found. "Objects are objects," he said aloud, "and gone is gone. No use pining over…" _over things that will never miss my presence. Over people who won_ _'t mourn my absence_. "… the past," he finished forcefully.

"Mm. I guess not." Lydia was looking at a leather-bound book resting beside her chair. "I like having memories, though. Elle grew up so fast, and I was working most of the time. And I like looking back on when my mom was alive."

Loki realized with a start that Lydia had gone through what her daughter was facing already. _At least both her parents loved her when they died_ , he thought bitterly. But he knew that even mortals felt powerful sorrow over their dead. He wondered if their memories were as short as their life spans. "Do you miss her a great deal?"

Lydia chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose I do. I'm not really sad anymore— it was seven years ago, now— but I guess I miss how things _were_ back then. It seemed like we were all happier.

That, Loki decided, was a disturbingly perfect description of how he felt when he thought about his palace chambers and the items in it. He didn't miss the _things_ , he missed the life that came with the things. He missed his toehold of belonging to that golden, shining world. He missed having a claim to honor and royalty.

( _Do you miss fighting every moment for Odin_ _'s approval? Want to go crawling back, even now, you pathetic little—)_

"But I'm glad I'm here now," Lydia continued into the silence, breaking Loki's internal consternation.

Loki mentally shook himself. "Why?"

Lydia smiled brightly. "I'm getting to see Elle grow up. And I get to witness all the heroes coming out of the woodwork, finally. And, of course, I got to meet you."

"What do you mean, 'finally'?" Loki asked, shifting uncomfortably under the compliment. Lydia often said things like this without warning, and he had no idea how to respond. _"I'm also grateful to be trapped on this planet, simply for the company_." It wasn't true, and he didn't know what the sickly woman was trying to accomplish.

Luckily, she never pursued the topic.

"Well, it started with Tony, I guess. About a year before Elle met Darren, Tony made the Iron Man suit and came out to the public. Since then, SHIELD has been monitoring potential heroes for the Avengers project. I was part of Tony's monitoring team, although he had no idea. They took me off when Darren took Elle out on a date." Lydia smiled sarcastically. "Something about necessary impartiality. So, we found Steve in the ice, we had Hawkeye and Black Widow on our team, and we were monitoring the Hulk. Then…" She trailed off with a look of cautious skepticism.

Loki knew where she was going. "Then Thor fell from the sky and redeemed himself. And you hope the same for me."

"I just hope you're having a good time," Lydia corrected him. "Something wrong with that?"

 _Considering I_ _'m imprisoned here…_ But Loki knew what she meant. The journey was important to her, even more than the destination. He found himself curious instead of bitter. "When Eleanore was small, what did you hope for her?" Because a prince's destiny was fairly straightforward with little to no variation.

"I wanted her to be happy," Lydia said vaguely. "You know, finding something she enjoyed doing for a career. When I joined SHIELD, I had no idea she'd follow me six years later."

"And the life of a warrior is not what you wished for her?" Loki pressed.

"She's not just a warrior," Lydia protested, "and I didn't have any really set expectations for her to grow into. Kids go through stages of trying on different careers, you know? Maybe a prince wouldn't have, but human children do. When Elle was little, she wanted to be a zoologist."

Loki caught the translation of that in the form of a person who chased down dangerous creatures and studied them extensively. Not so different from what she was doing now. Perhaps she was drawn to peril, like Steve was.

"Then she thought about being a teacher," Lydia continued. "Then a counselor, then a photographer, then a painter. She only found out what I really did for SHIELD when she was sixteen, still in the painter phase. One job-shadowing day later, and she decided her whole college career path to be an agent. And even that changed just as she was getting there." The older woman smiled fondly through Loki.

Loki felt his burdensome presence in the face of these recollections. "Her plans can be resumed, I suppose, as soon as she is rid of me."

Lydia laughed. "The world doesn't revolve around you."

Loki frowned. "I never claimed such a thing."

"No, you just act like it." Lydia was now turning that fond smile on him directly. "Loki, Elle's plans got derailed for the _better_. And you pretty much had nothing to do with it. She was recruited by SHIELD to help Steve acclimate to the modern world. That's what put her in line to be an Avenger."

"You don't think having a dragon on hand and courting the youngest Stark had anything to do with that?" Loki challenged, stinging a bit over the implication of his self-absorption.

"Maybe. But she wouldn't have been on that helicarrier if she wasn't Steve's handler. I doubt Fury would have called her in for anything even related to you."

Loki didn't know how he felt about being a mere side-effect. "In other words, Eleanore has as little control of her destiny as I presently do."

"We're all subject to outside factors," Lydia agreed. "What does destiny have planned for you today?"

"Colluding with Darren Stark to find which Midgardian metals will accept magic." Loki was getting more anxious instead of more relaxed. Lydia was in some sort of humor today, or he was too shaken, still, from his unremembered nightmare. Either way, he started planning ways to politely conclude the interaction.

"What are you going to use the magic metal for?"

"Many things, I presume. Finding the magician before he can do more damage to this realm."

"Oh, how will you do that?"

"I first need to know what capabilities each metal has, then study the sorcerer's magic to… It is complicated," Loki hedged automatically. Lydia knew nothing of science or magic; she'd soon be bored by the long explanation.

"So can you recognize the magic, or do you have to make your spells specific to a person? Like DNA?"

Loki took a moment to remind himself just whose mother he was speaking to: Eleanore of the Unending Questions and Surprising Insights. Apparently, it was an inherited trait. His mood shifted from winter to a hint of spring, and he allowed a grin to ghost across his mouth. "Darren mentioned 'DNA' being similar to a person's essence. I suppose that is the best term I can relate it to. If I had some blood or hair of the sorcerer, I could find them quite simply."

"But they haven't been at any of the crime scenes," Lydia said when he paused for breath. "So you're going to track the magic? Is that harder?"

"It's less certain," Loki said, now thinking through the possibilities. "This is experimental spellcasting, even for me. As far as I have read, nothing like this has been attempted in the history of the Nine."

"So magicians like you just… what? Don't get caught?"

Loki gave a mischeivous smirk. "There are no magicians like me."

Lydia started laughing again. "Yeah, that's not arrogant at all."

"Not when it's true," Loki chuckled along.

"So this new guy isn't a problem?"

"Obviously, they pose a problem." Loki's mood soured as he remembered the melted mortals, killed for nothing more than a display of strength. It was too brash, too _Thor_ for his taste. Loki preferred not to show all his abilities to potential foes. He also didn't go looking for battle. _Well_ , he amended, _I don_ _'t look for battle for myself._ Thanos had sent him for a fight, and Loki had not felt averse at the time.

"Less of a problem with you here?" Lydia prompted curiously.

"Considerably less," Loki assured her.

"Elle said you think whoever it is trying out their skills. Transporting? But only you can really do it without killing people."

"And only with limitations," Loki affirmed. "I have been considering their motivation, and I can only surmise that they have recently developed these abilities. Thus, they want to test the extent of their reach."

"But what if they've had these powers for a while?" Lydia challenged.

"Then why wouldn't they have used them before?" Loki asked. "I have been assured many times that SHIELD has found no such 'terrorism' in the past few years."

"No, and only an idiot would display their abilities like this," Lydia agreed with a pensive nod. She was looking straight into Loki's eyes with a distant sort of thoughtfulness. Merely questioning, not looking for a fight. "But _you_ _'re_ here, now. A great sorcerer from another planet; lots of people know about you too. So before, if this person was confining themselves to more worldly goals, they would have been quieter. But with you here, maybe they see a chance for something more."

"You think I drew them out?" Loki asked. Of course he could have done it; he'd hardly been subtle about saving Steve in Turkey. And afterward, he'd been far too free with his magic. Acceptance from the mortals had made him careless. Even a little excited to show off, in the face of their amazement.

( _Stupid, foolish simpleton._ _Do you bow before the slightest hint of camaraderie?_ )

"It's not your fault," Lydia clarified rather forcefully. "I just wonder if they're trying to copy you."

( _You and all the destruction you caused without real awareness. You weak, pathetic creature. Everything you touch turns to dust. How much longer before you kill even these little creatures? You exist to ruin._ )

"Loki? Loki!"

Lydia's exclamation was accompanied by a harsh _crack_ , and then Loki's hands were soaked in warm liquid.

 _Blood?_ was his initial thought, coming quickly back into reality from the red-tinged self-loathing into which he'd sunk. But there was no blood, only tea soaking into the carpet and the chair and his trousers. Shards of green cut into his hands, though they would be crushed before they broke his skin.

And Lydia's hands were there holding tissues and gently prying his fingers open. "Here, don't want to cut yourself."

Loki summoned his magic and sent the mug into the trash can, lifting the tea from the material before it could stain. "My sincere apologies," he said through a stiff-set jaw that only wanted to grind his teeth to nothing.

"It's fine," Lydia assured him. "I mean, it's gone now. No harm done."

 _Not yet, anyway_. Loki felt like he was about to fly through the ceiling. _Now_ he wanted to hit something, to fight, to run so far and fast that he left his strange knot of shame and tension in his stomach far behind. He stood and transported in the same instant.

Back to his bedroom in Eleanore's apartment. It was sparse and bare, nothing like his former chambers. But the smells were familiar all the same, and the quiet was peaceful. Loki breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth as Bruce had suggested a few days before in a quiet moment as they waited for a computer to deliver results.

He noted he had a mere couple of hours left before he had to meet Darren. Loki hadn't even informed Eleanore about the meeting, suspecting she needed her sleep after a few nights spent getting kicked across the sparring ring, followed by tapping away at her computer's keyboard until one day officially turned into the next at the strangely- termed 'midnight'. She'd drunk several servings of coffee the afternoon before, prompting looks of concern from Darren and Steve. Steve, in an uncharacteristic display of subtlety, had asked Eleanore to wait until he was done running errands to go to the Triskelion, perhaps around ten that morning. Loki had taken the hint and resolved to let the young woman rest as long as she could.

And it sounded like she was still slumbering. The apartment was silent, even though the sun was now peeking over the horizon at the late hour of half past five AM, turning the black clouds to dark gray. The rain was petering off into short bursts of drizzle.

Loki felt himself calming again as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He read the message from Lydia, expressing concern over his quick departure.

" _You okay? Let me know you made it home safe, at least. Don_ _'t worry about the mug. Next time you visit, we won't talk about work._ "

Loki ignored the older Engman's habit of calling this tiny dwelling his 'home' and replied shortly. " _Thank you for the tea._ " He wouldn't promise to visit alone again. Too much attachment was wearing on him and giving the Other more of a hold on his mind. At least Loki could limit the damage if the attacks came when he was alone.

He shook off the impending sense of dread and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling a book on metallurgy out of his storage space between spaces. Darren had lent him this 'hard copy' the night before just before he flew that ridiculous metal suit back to New York. Loki had only read half of it before he forced himself to sleep.

Now, he had to find something to occupy his mind or he'd burst. He examined different metals and their known Midgardian properties. Gold was available, as was silver, but there the familiarity ended. 'Steel' wasn't an Asgardian alloy. Loki found a section on 'conductors,' which seemed promising. He read about energy transfer and mathematical equations and currents until he felt somewhat certain that magical energy could also be sent through these mediums fairly easily. Storage was another issue. Humans were still searching for efficient means of keeping energy bottled up without allowing waste to burn off or escape.

Time passed sluggishly, but it passed. Loki watched the rain stop completely over the pages of the book. He listened to the whisper of cars pick up along the quiet road. The street lights turned themselves off, and the world began sparkling in the light of the morning sun as the clouds scuttled away.

Eleanore's bed sighed and squeaked for a few minutes. Loki heard her mumbling something to her dragon regarding a 'damn body clock' and waking too early even when she _could_ sleep in. Charlie meowed and trilled and thumped to the floor.

"Hush," Eleanore told him, emerging herself. "Loki's probably asleep, you turd."

Loki didn't feel like disillusioning her at the moment. He still had about half an hour left before he had to transport again to the Triskelion. The plans, texted the night before, stated eight o'clock, a time Loki had suggested from his observations of normal Midgardian work schedules. Darren had merely said, " _Sure_ ," in response to the time and place. Loki had taken it as a sign of boredom; the boy was probably tiring of seeing him every day and making no real progress.

But Loki was also done with reading for the moment. He set the book aside on the little table beside the bed and sauntered over to the closet silently. Inside he found the black suit Pepper Potts had provided. He'd noticed that many men wore belts, so Loki brought the black piece of leather off the little hook on the door and eyed it. It seemed useless, other than as a tool to keep trousers from riding down his hips. The material was thick, though. Loki modified it to hold a couple of small pockets which would conceal the thinnest and shortest of his blades. Going around without armor was making him more tense as time went on. At least these blades would be on hand if his magic was not an option.

That done, Loki finished dressing himself. He checked his appearance in the mirror and found those disconcerting eyes, too wide and bitter, above a blank expression. He sighed, then sighed again. There was no way to fully prepare himself for the day ahead. As Lydia said, all were subject to the unexpected whims of fate.

Loki resolved to tell Eleanore where he was going to avoid worried phone calls and unnecessary visits. He opened the bedroom door and stepped into the main room.

"Why are you ready so early?" Eleanore asked over her coffee mug from her seat at the little counter. "Did I forget a meeting?"

Loki appraised her disheveled, sleepy, pajama-clad appearance, buttoning his own black suit jacket over a green shirt. He rather liked Earth's more debonair styles, and the mysterious Pepper had given him clothes measured exactly right. "I'm supposed to collaborate with your lover."

"Darren? In the morning?" She gave a wry grin laced with disbelief. "I don't think you need to rush. Want some tea?"

"No, I'll just be on time as it is." Loki didn't wait for more comments, transporting through the air into Darren's lab at the SHIELD facility.

The room was empty, but he was a few minutes early. Loki strolled over to the windows to watch the city coming to life, and to take stock of the Midgardian capitol in the morning light. Humans had come far with their buildings and monuments. He gotten Jarvis' help and had studied a map of Washington D.C. during one of his sleepless nights, bent on avoiding Eleanore's instruction as much as he could. From this angle, Loki could identify the Washington Monument, several museums, the Lincoln Memorial, and the FDR Memorial Park where Tiryaki had been captured. Though mortals like Eleanore might have to squint in the early sun's rays, Loki could easily make out pedestrians, traffic, and small animals going about their daily lives.

He checked the digital clock on the wall. 8:05. Well, Eleanore had known he didn't need to rush. But Loki was used to Asgardian timetables, where meetings were set for 'just before the nightly feast,' or 'after breakfast.' He'd done his fair share of waiting.

But as Darren's late time increased by another five minutes, Loki grew bored with the scenery. He turned back to the lab equipment and began fiddling with an unused motherboard left in the 'scrap' pile. Found a soldering gun, and began connecting other scrap to the motherboard. He found bits and pieces— a wire here, a shard of circuit board there. The solder smelled 'hot,' like an electrical fire or a softened version of the sulfur pits of Muspelheim. Loki checked the clock periodically, but allowed himself to focus on his work. Small projects like this had always relaxed him, allowed him to organize his thoughts.

Currently, he was intent on the subject of his research here. What sorts of metal might magic best bind to? Gold had always been favored by sorcerers of the Nine because of its immortal qualities. However, it was soft and malleable, so much so that a spell with too much energy would melt or break it, backlashing the user. Silver was also useful for workings because it held intention well. But Loki had yet to experiment with metals and spells in this way, and he'd never used Midgardian resources. Would this world's elements hold magic, or would it discard them because of its powerless people? He pondered and soldered until he'd slowly, carefully built a small structure of green and silver that could reach from his fingertips to his wrist.

It was 8:50.

Now Loki was more annoyed. They'd set a definite time; where was the boy? And more importantly, did Loki have time to go somewhere for breakfast before Darren would show up? He pulled his phone from his suit's pocket and found no messages, no missed calls, and a full battery.

It was also embarrassing to have rushed out the door to meet someone who clearly didn't care about the appointment. But perhaps there was an excuse. And Loki held a source of information for that in the palm of his hand.

"Jarvis," he began.

The screen went black, and a white-blue line appeared in the middle to express sound waves. " _Yes, Master Loki?_ "

"Can you tell me how soon Darren will be here?"

" _My apologies, Master Loki. That goes against my protocols."_

Loki frowned at the device. Perhaps 'protocols' could hold loopholes like legal documents. "Can you tell me what he's doing?"

" _I'm afraid not, sir."_

"Can you put me in contact with him?"

" _Unfortunately, Master Darren is not in a position to be reached._ "

 _What in Hela_ _'s name…_ "Is he in danger?"

" _No, Master Loki._ "

This was becoming ridiculous. "Why has Darren put these protocols in place?"

" _These protocols were added to my programming two years ago by Master Darren._

"That doesn't answer my question," Loki growled. "But I suppose the answer goes against the protocol as well."

" _That is an astute assumption, sir._

Loki raised his eyes to the ceiling's bright fluorescents. The conversation had pushed the clock to the hour. "Very well. Thank you for your lack of information."

" _Please let me know if you require any further assistance, Master Loki._ " Jarvis sounded almost amused.

Loki put his phone away, worried that he'd break it in frustration in a few moments. Instead, he moved on to what he could do alone: testing small samples of metal lying around the lab.

First up was aluminum. Loki tried binding a concealment spell to an ingot he gathered from the remains of the scrap pile. The metal emphatically refused to hold the power for long, dissipating it through every atom until absolutely nothing was left. Just for good measure, Loki also tried simple illusions and some energy storage, but they failed to stick as well. Runes and inscriptions had no affect; the metal was just terrible at containing magic.

So aluminum was out. Fair enough. And it was 9:40. At this rate, Loki would conduct all the tests alone today with only the materials present in this room. He sighed again and focused on the matter at hand.

Next was copper. Again, there were plenty of samples to draw together into a good-sized disk. Loki repeated the previous process exactly to be sure he hadn't made an error anywhere. Copper accepted and conducted energy efficiently, but there was no way to store a spell in the metal without an insulator. And the only insulators in the room were part of the hardware. And insulators didn't respond well to magical reassembly like metal did. Wood and rubber and the like tended to need coaxing, and one manipulation was enough to strain the materials. Plastic fared better, but Loki knew rubber would flex around the metal more malleably.

Thus it transpired that, another half hour later, Loki heard the door slide open from his position on the ground trying to wrestle a rubber footing off one of the larger desks without breaking either.

"Well, it certainly took you—" he began, glancing over the tiles to find Eleanore's 'comfortable' light blue shoes and Jet's dog paws approaching. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought we could go out for brunch," she explained, walking around the desks and coming fully into view. She wore her hair piled on top of her head precariously, with short jeans that only reached partway down her calves and a loose red top with short sleeves. "Steve's driving to the Tower to talk to Tony about something to do with a New York Avengers base. I knew Darren would be late, so I figured you might want some food." She didn't seem to find it odd that Loki was lying on the ground looking up at her, nor that he'd amassed a pile of rubber and plastic odds and ends in a small pile on one of the desks. She glanced over at the soldered sculpture. "This looks nice. Did you make some progress?"

Loki decided that if she was going to treat this situation normally, then he would too. "I'm trying to. Your lover is _not_ helping the matter."

"You could just call him Darren," Eleanore pointed out amiably. "What exactly are you working on right now?"

"Insulating copper for testing." Loki pried the rubber from the footing with his fingernails. And frowned at how dirty he was getting. He'd had the foresight to hang his jacket from a chair, but he hadn't changed his clothes, instead only rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Sometimes he could lose track of himself when he had a goal in mind, even one as simple as gathering bits of material from furniture. He decided he had enough, and rose to his feet to set the footing with the rest of the harvest.

Eleanore examined the copper ingot. It was shaped like a perfect, rounded droplet the size of Loki's thumbnail. Smaller than the aluminum one because of a lack of materials. Loki had been inspired by the solder's drippings from earlier. "You get this off circuitry?"

"Yes." He used magic to carefully form a bowl from the rubber, which he then outlined in hard plastic. He placed the ingot in the bowl and molded the sides to hold it in place.

Eleanore watched the process, then picked up the aluminum piece. "There's writing on this."

"So there is," Loki said sarcastically. "What an astute scientific observer you are."

"Well, I didn't show up for the conversation," she responded in turn. "Let's get lunch after this. I'm hungry."

"I'm experimenting," Loki informed her. "Perhaps you don't value my contributions to the human race's understanding of magic, but I'm sure there are some who do."

"I do value your contributions, but you can take a break," Eleanore pressed. "I found this build-your-own salad place on the other side of the bridge."

That offer was tempting. Loki set aside his annoyance, which wasn't really directed at Eleanore anyway, and considered it. "Perhaps in a short while. If _Darren_ hasn't appeared."

"Sounds good." Eleanore hopped up onto one of the tall stools which was now missing its footings. "What are you going to try now?"

At least with someone around, Loki could talk through his thought process. It was cathartic, and it helped him organize ideas and separate them from facts. "Just energy storage for now. You'll likely see nothing."

Still, Eleanore watched him run through the tests again in order. The insulator did help the energy stay inside the copper. Because of this, Loki tried and failed to make the metal accept a will over workings. Just to be sure, he ran through all the basic spells, from lightcasting to soundproofing. Nothing would stick.

"What was that one?" Eleanore asked as a flash of light indicated another defeat.

Loki heaved a frustrated sigh. "It was a transportation spell."

"Like you'd use this thing to teleport?"

"No. You'd use 'this thing' to bring a set object to your location." Explaining made things both better and worse. Better because Loki could vent a bit through his tone. Worse because he knew Darren should be here, and no explanation should be needed with him.

"Let's go have lunch," Eleanore decided, hopping off the stool she'd perched on for the last twenty minutes. "I'll call Darren on the way and see if he's even out of the Tower yet."

"Just leave him be," Loki grumbled, grabbing his jacket from the chair and slinging it over his shoulder as he'd seen men do in advertisements. "The protocol won't let you speak to him, in any case."

"Oh, you hit that firewall?" Eleanore chuckled.

Loki stored the 'firewall' term away for later. "You know a way around it?"

"Yeah. Pepper gave me administrative control over Jarvis a long time ago. Enough that Darren can't shut me out." She pulled out her phone and nodded to the door. "Come on. We'll walk and berate."

Loki followed her through the building as the phone rang time and again. Eleanore tried Darren's regular cell phone, which went to voice mail, then just patched herself through to the Tower. Tony answered as they walked outside.

" _Hey, Princess._

"Hey Tony. How's it going?"

" _Well, far as I can tell, no one major is trying to kill us today._ "

"That could change," Loki muttered under his breath.

Eleanore grinned at that. "Is Darren with you?"

" _I didn_ _'t know he was still here,"_ Tony said. " _Thought he had a meeting with Tall, Dark, and Scary._ "

"He did. Two and a half hours ago."

" _Change that to Tall, Dark, and Pissed._ "

"Well, anyway," Eleanore redirected the conversation as she and Loki entered the walking bridge that took them off the island's west side. "While I have you, Tony, do you have any ideas about metal that would hold magic well?"

" _Have you tried anything yet?_

"Aluminum and copper," Loki supplied.

"Aluminum and copper," Eleanore reported.

" _Copper seems like a good start. Copper and zinc, maybe? But if it_ _'s magic, it might need something archaic. Silver and gold?"_

"We don't have those metals right now," Eleanore reminded the elder Stark. "Darren was supposed to bring them."

" _Can you make it to the Tower? I_ _'ve got samples to spare. And if we run out, I'll order some. And a pizza."_

Eleanore looked to Loki for his opinion on this plan. He shrugged, then nodded. The advice of one Stark and perhaps Banner was more than he was getting at present.

"We'll be there in a few minutes. Thanks, Tony." Eleanore ended the call and stopped walking. They were in the middle of the bridge. "I don't think you've had pizza yet."

"I haven't," Loki confirmed. "I've seen it on an Italian menu, however."

"I think you'll like it. New York-style is pretty good."

"I'm more interested in the metals," Loki reminded her. He held out his hand. "Shall we?"

"Sure you're not annoyed enough to rip Tony a new one?"

He considered that. "What is the alternative? And a new one of what?"

"Walking a little more. And a new asshole."

Loki let out a laugh at the unexpected imagery, vulgar though it was. Eleanore often cursed when Steve wasn't around to express silent disapproval, and sometimes when he was. Loki looked ahead to the unexplored buildings. "I give you my word that I won't attempt anything of that nature, but very well. A short walk. A few minutes, you said. _I_ like to keep my appointments."

"Tony probably needs to shower and put on a clean shirt. We've got like twenty."

They set off again at a brisk pace. The breeze from the river was refreshing, even if the cars zooming by did disturb the peace. Loki used Bruce's advised breathing techniques to center himself and prepare for the hours ahead. After a few minutes, he grew curious about Eleanore's easy, intimate knowledge of Stark habits. "You knew Darren would be late."

"I did," Eleanore agreed with a small grin. She met his eyes and the grin widened into teasing. "Tried to warn you, too."

Loki ignored that last small jab. "So you've experienced this tardiness before."

"Ever since we started dating."

"You haven't reprimanded him for it?" Loki found that hard to believe. Eleanore would tell an arrow how to fly.

"Oh, I have. It just doesn't work. If I want him to be on time, I have to constantly remind him about it. We usually both end up late that way." She shrugged clear annoyance off. "I decided about a year ago that it's just not my job to manage him. I only do now when it's basically life or death."

"I could _make_ this life or death," Loki mused darkly, only half jesting. "Then he might realize the error of his ways."

"You can try that," Eleanore said with a laugh. "I don't think you know how stubborn he actually is."

"Indeed?" Loki glanced down at her. "I always thought you were the more headstrong one."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Eleanore smiled. "You'll see what I mean eventually."

Loki presumed he would. "What were his excuses over the years?"

"Honestly?" she grinned and shook her head. "I already know what he's going to say to you when you confront him about it."

"And what is that?"

"He'll say he got a late start, then talk about gathering things he should have had ready last night, then explain that he needed time to get ready." Eleanore bit her lip and continued, "What that means is he felt like he had to, in his words, 'take a massive dump' right after he ate breakfast. He does that almost every morning, and he never accounts for it in his timing. And if you press the issue, he'll also say he likes to relax in the morning, which means he was watching some video about science, or he got distracted by an experiment as soon as he woke up."

Loki was impressed with the confidence in her tone. "He never changes the story?"

"It's not a story. That's literally what happens every time."

Loki looked around and re-centered himself in this part of the city. It had been nearly twenty minutes. "Let's test this theory, hm?"

"It does count as a theory, if it never fails." Eleanore placed her hand on his with a sardonic smirk.

Loki returned it, then tugged them through space until they stood in the main room of Stark Tower.

"Elle?" A tall, extremely slim woman with a fitted white dress, high heels, and red-blonde hair looked up from her seat in one of the easy chairs. When she saw Loki, her familiar expression closed into formality. "You must be Mr. Loki. I've heard a lot about you."

"Loki, this is Pepper." Eleanore did the introductions, still wobbling after the transportation. "Pepper, this is Loki. We're here to talk to Tony and Bruce about magic and metals."

"Pleased to meet you," Pepper said with a chilly tone.

It took Loki a moment to remember he'd thrown Tony out of the window in this very room. He put on his most charming façade, adopting every Midgardian rule of etiquette he'd observed. "Ms. Potts, it's an honor." He took the hand she held out and kissed it with a disarming smile that had gotten him into and out of a lot of… situations.

Pepper blushed the barest bit, but still looked grave.

 _Are all Midgardian women so cautiously stoic?_ Loki straightened, but not enough to tower over the two women, and released her hand. Trying to lighten the mood, he gestured broadly to his suit. "I thank you most sincerely for your gifts since my arrival."

That seemed to undo some of the tension. Pepper smiled benevolently and looked him over. "I'm glad you like them; they look very nice."

"Have you seen Darren this morning?" Eleanore interjected.

"He was rummaging through the kitchen about two hours ago," Pepper supplied. "Is he late for something again?"

Loki kept from clenching his teeth. _Two hours ago?! What did he find to do with that time?_ "I had an appointment with him at the Triskelion at eight o'clock."

Pepper and Eleanore shared an understanding, exasperated glance.

"I won't apologize for him," Pepper said, "but I understand your frustration."

Loki felt a real smile slide into place. "Thank you. You're very kind."

" _Master Loki, Master Stark is requesting your presence in the shared lab,_ " Jarvis informed them.

"You go ahead," Eleanore bade him. "I haven't seen Pepper in a while. I'll be down after a bit."

Loki wondered if she'd be able to sense an outburst of anger that might be caused by Stark proximity. At least Banner was probably there. "Have a pleasant visit. Ms. Potts, it was a pleasure to meet you." He bowed formally and turned heel to walk away.

"Is he always like that?" Pepper whispered as he opened the elevator doors.

"Ha. No." Eleanore ratted him out with a chuckle. "He can be nice, though. And he can almost definitely hear us."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I won't stop my ears just so you can gossip." He tossed the words over his shoulder with what he thought was a daring degree of nonchalance, considering he didn't know either woman very well.

That earned him two individual laughs. He turned just in time to arch an eyebrow as the elevator closed and whisked him down several floors until it opened again with no sound.

"Man of the hour!" Tony grinned and grandly gestured from behind a clear display full of squares and letters. "Jeeze, no need to show up looking like a supermodel."

"Hi." Bruce was much quieter, but just as friendly, looking over his spectacles through another screen full of data.

"Stark. Bruce." Loki let their names imply his preferred distance.

Tony didn't pick up on hints. He came forward and slapped Loki on the shoulder, leading him further into the room. Loki noted that the shorter man's hair was wet, that he smelled of soap, and that his short-sleeved shirt and jeans were free of grease stains. "So we've assembled — ha, get it?— ingots for you to sample. Do you have a method? Have you been recording your results?"

Loki set his jaw and resigned himself to this twist of fate. "I've only been at this a few hours. Yes, I have a method. I haven't recorded the results, but I'm sure SHIELD recorded me while I was in their lab. Thank you for the samples."

"Woah." Tony paused and stared at him dramatically. "Did you just _thank_ me, God of Grumps?"

Loki scowled at him. "I was taught proper etiquette, unlike you. I already regret it." The thanks had been a means to end the conversation, or at least to steer it away from Tony's questioning.

"Hey, feel free to thank me anytime. Nice suit, by the way." Tony smirked meaningfully at him and retreated behind display again.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "I met Pepper upon my arrival. She does have wonderful taste in everything except romantic partners."

"Oh, score one for the low road!" Tony pointed a pen in Loki's general direction. "Sass levels around here are going to be off the charts. Jarvis, record everything for posterity and/or evidence."

Bruce approached then, holding out a small bar of rosy silver. "Copper-zinc alloy. We use it in batteries here."

Loki took the bar. It was heavy and cold in his hands, and it smelled of acrid metal. He carried it over to an unused desk and banished the clutter to pile in the corner. Then he pulled a globule of the metal and pondered it closely. "Have you anything as a preferred insulator? An advanced method of storage?"

Bruce followed him and watched the wavering droplet. "We could get some rubber or plastic, if you want to make something out of that."

Tony approached and tried to poke the blob with the end of his pen. "You thinking energy storage here, Reindeer Games? Or energy transmission?"

"Both," Loki answered, moving the metal away. "And rubber and plastic are fine for now."

"This already sounds fun," Eleanore commented from the elevator doorway.

Loki eyed her. "You kept your visit short."

"Pepper had a meeting," she explained. "Whatcha doing?" Like Tony, she tried to reach for the metal hovering between Loki's hands.

"I'm trying to focus without giving you metal pens and fingerprints," Loki snarked, pulling the substance out of reach.

"Is it hot?" Eleanore asked, unimpressed.

Loki was already feeling fazed by the ordeal. He brought the sample back down. "Test it for yourself."

Eleanore didn't hesitate, grasping for the metal.

Loki pulled it away. "Do you _want_ to burn your hand off?"

"You said to try it!" Eleanore protested.

"I thought you had a bit more sense!" Loki shook his head and laughed, his tension now dispersed into incredulity. "Would you jump off this tower if I advised it?"

Eleanore rolled her eyes at that. "You sound like my mom again."

"And my mom," Bruce chuckled.

"Universal mom line," Tony decided with a grin.

Loki remembered Frigga saying something similar. _"Loki, if Thor jumped into a volcano, would you follow him?"_ At the time, the answer had been 'yes'. He'd trusted Thor back then. Eleanore trusted him now, a bit too much. "You mortals should listen to your mothers, then."

"We're known for _not_ doing that," Tony informed him.

"Loki?" Darren departed from the elevator then, lugging a rectangular case.

Loki fixed the young man with a glare that halted him in his tracks. "You kept me waiting, Stark."

Darren looked confused for a moment, then smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I got a late start, and then I had to get the metals together. Then I had to get _myself_ ready… you know how it is."

What Loki _knew_ was that if he turned around at that moment, he'd be faced with Eleanore's triumphant smile. Instead of seeking that out, he let his annoyance from that morning well up. "It's considered the height of dishonor to keep a guest waiting. I was at the lab at eight, unable to contact you."

"I put the protocol on so I don't have to answer the phone in the shower, or… bathroom at all." Darren shrugged. "Sorry again. I'm not the most awake in the morning. I like to relax."

Loki forced himself not to laugh at the utter predictability of this child. Instead he did as he'd promised, and issued a threat. "If you 'relax' at my expense again, I'll personally ensure you don't sleep for a week."

Darren appraised him. Loki found the undercurrent of obstinance in that short glance. "I can't always control when I have to take a dump."

Eleanore made an undignified grunting noise. Loki didn't turn to look at her, knowing he'd likely laugh if they made eye contact.

Darren gave her a strange, wide-eyed look that said he knew at least in part what she was laughing at, but didn't want to admit it. "What?"

Loki needed to draw his attention back for the threat to take hold. "I will refuse to collaborate with you if you ever waste my time again. Have I made myself clear?"

"Jeeze, Loki, okay." Darren held up his hands and grinned. "I'm sorry, alright? Won't happen again."

That, Loki supposed, was as much remorse as he'd get. But the impression he gathered from Darren's apology was more exasperation with an inconvenience rather than a genuine concern for the time he'd cost another person.

" _You must allow others the dignity of their schedules._ Frigga's voice sounded again. She was very vocal, suddenly, in Loki's mind. " _Keeping a guest waiting is the height of arrogance, Loki. And you_ _'ll get much less cooperation from an exasperated person than one who feels your generous hospitality._ "

Loki had been called arrogant any number of times over the years. Now, he witnessed it in another being with whom he closely identified. Darren reminded him uncomfortably of himself when he was younger. He'd considered himself more intelligent than the other young people because he could speak of magic, understood the workings of the universe, while they repeated warrior mantras and hit each other with blunted practice weapons. It wasn't until he'd begun shirking his princely duties — ducking out of meetings and avoiding guests in order to study— that Frigga had chided him alone.

 _You_ _'d like this halfling, Mother. He could learn a thing or two from you._

But Loki wasn't Frigga, and he certainly wasn't anyone's mother. If Eleanore had given up on this line of chastisement, he could only imagine more frustration lay in store in the future.

Darren moved around the desk to embrace Eleanore. "You here to experiment too? What was so funny?"

"I told Loki what you'd say about being late," she said truthfully. "I didn't miss a single excuse. It was like Bingo. I've _told_ you you'd get in trouble one of these days."

Darren looked hurt. "I'm not late that much."

Eleanore gave him a _look_. "Sure about that?"

"You're late a lot," Tony confirmed, clapping his son on the back. "Don't know where you got that. Kidding!" he exclaimed when Eleanore frowned at him.

The elevator door opened once more, admitting Steve, who paused with a confused expression upon finding most of the Avengers assembled before him.

"About time you got here!" Tony exclaimed. "What took you so long, Cap?"

Steve ignored the joke and strode into the lab, all business. "You wanted to talk about a base here?"

"That was before your wunderkind showed up and started threatening us with molten metal," Tony told him. "Today just got a _lot_ more interesting."

"But you should talk about the base," Eleanore chimed in. "Darren, let's go to your lab with Loki while they talk. Tony, you can join us there later."

Tony grumbled, "Now who sounds like a mom?" But he didn't argue as Loki followed Eleanore and Darren around Steve and back into the elevator. Bruce stepped in just as the door closed.

"I'm interested," he explained, gesturing to the glob of alloy still hovering above Loki's hand.

Loki cooled the orb and let it fall into his palm in a perfect sphere. "Investigate to your heart's content, Doctor Banner," he said, handing the ball over.

Bruce took it and examined it closely, even as Eleanore and Darren crowded him for a better look themselves. "Asgard do a lot of magic casting?" he asked, looking at Loki over his glasses.

"No," Loki answered. "Most metal working is done by hand. There may be magic involved, but it is generally used to protect a finished product or enhance a weapon." Such facts seemed harmless, simple statements of truth not connected to Loki's baseless former claim to the Realm Eternal.

The elevator came to a stop ten floors below Tony's lab. It opened to a similar, though darker and more cluttered, room. The walls were lined with black shelves, which held scraps and machines and tools in no particular order. The lights hung from the high ceiling next to bare silver ventilation piping, their sterile whiteness cutting through the drab darkness thrown by the black-tinted windows. The walls were striking, dark gray concrete, though Loki caught sight of a few paintings flashing color here and there. A couple of sofas and easy chairs sat in an alcove near a large, un-tinted window, with book-covered shelves and a warm lamp, a definite contrast to the rest of the space. Desks and work tables also lined the walls, and one array of screens in the middle of the room almost made a complete square with just one way to escape.

"Welcome to Darren's Mission Control," Eleanore said with a grin.

"Here's the main workshop," Darren added, leading them around the middle pillar of the room which housed the elevator. The lab continued on the other side in much the same manner, though there was more heavy equipment scattered across the white tile floor.

"If you don't want to cast everything with magic, Loki," Darren continued, approaching a metal cylinder and patting it fondly, "we can use my foundry. It can melt anything up to tungsten."

Loki had hoped for such a device. Melting the metal with magic imbued it with his power from the start, which could pose issues in later, more specific spellcasting. He held out what was left of the little bar of copper-zinc. "You can begin with this."

"What size mold?" Darren asked, taking the metal in hand and lifting the lid of the foundry.

"Like this?" Bruce offered, showcasing the sphere Loki had given him again.

"Like that," Loki agreed easily. He took the case Darren carried and lifted it onto a less-cluttered table to open it. Twelve bars of metal were arranged in a black foam packaging, and when Loki lifted the lid back fully, a little platform rose and revealed twelve more bars below. Some were wrapped in black cloth, some were in plastic containers. Inside the lid of the case lay a few different types of fittings: wood, plastic, rubber, and some flimsy metal chains.

"I brought two ingots of gold and silver," Darren explained from his place near the forge. "Then there's… basically everything I could think of. Lead, platinum, tin, titanium, cadmium, iridium, copper, aluminum, iron, nickel, chromium, lithium, isolated barium. Um…" he trailed off, watching the forge light to life.

"Anything radioactive?" Bruce asked.

"No, those are in the vault," Darren said. "Elle said to start with the safer ones."

Loki glanced up from the case to Eleanore, who was perched on a tall chair with wheels at a tall desk, a tablet in her hand. She didn't look up when Darren mentioned her. "The fewer explosions the better," she commented dryly, dragging her finger across the screen.

"Palladium!" Darren said next. His voice sounded affectionate and excited, like a child showing off its favorite toy. The half-Vanir man walked over and reached across Loki to retrieve a silvery bar from the case.

Loki looked at it and noticed how Darren's unkempt energy interacted with the metal. "Can this hold magic?" he asked.

"It can transfer and hold hydrogen— it's one of the best ways of storing hydrogen for long periods of time— but it's too expensive for widespread application like that. We use it in catalyst converters a lot, and some people like it in jewelry because it's a unique kind of silver. Dad used to use it in his Arc reactor, but it was poisoning him so he made a new element— name pending. We also use it in electronics, so I was thinking maybe palladium-nickel alloy for an experiment? We could also heat it up, because it diffuses hydrogen a lot easier when it's, say, six hundred seventy degrees Kelvin. _And_ since Palladium is exclusive to hydrogen, I was thinking that maybe it has special properties that would allow it to work well with magic and intent." Darren paused and took a deep breath after his diatribe.

"So, to answer your question," Eleanore commented, "he hasn't tried it with magic yet."

Loki had wished a few times in the last couple of days that Eleanore were the expert on magic of this world, because working with her would be much simpler. Darren often spoke at length about an idea as he had just done without seeming to hear or understand the actual questions directed at him. When Eleanore was there, she answered the questions in short sentences, focusing on what Loki or whoever had asked wanted to know. When she wasn't there, getting a straight answer out of the younger Stark often took much longer and involved much more frustration.

But Loki wouldn't be the one to compliment the presumptuous young woman. Instead he gave a short nod and kept looking over the metals. Took the palladium from Darren's hand and examined it more closely, careful not to let his own magic contaminate the metal yet. He could see energy moving in strange patterns, some reflecting off the silvery surface, some sinking in. The heat from his hand easily transferred into the bar.

"This one is interesting," he decided aloud.

Darren took it back. "Great. I'll make some more samples to test. The copper-zinc should be about done already."

So it went. Loki found that he worked well with Darren and Bruce together. Darren's long-winded explanations soon became background noise, as Loki listened for the key words he actually needed as answers. Bruce would translate sometimes, positing ideas that Darren, with his limited background in 'thermonuclear astrophysics' hadn't thought of. Eleanore stayed off to the side at a desk near the book-lined alcove, reading something on her computer and typing every so often. She spoke to clarify something Darren had said, but otherwise remained silent.

Palladium proved to hold magic in interesting ways. It absorbed the energy Loki gave it readily, and held it well when insulated with plastic. He cast several spells over several samples, and they all 'took,' as Bruce said. Intriguing as that was, they moved on to test the rest of the metals in the case.

Tony and Steve brought down several boxes of 'pizza' a few hours into the process. Loki found that he did like this portable dish, though not as much as ravioli or lasagna. He worked through spell theory in his mind while he ate, ignoring the conversations taking place around him. When the meal was over, Tony stayed to observe the experiments and Eleanore and Steve discussed something off to the side.

"Here," Darren said when Loki set his empty plate aside. The young man handed over a sketch made on blue paper with squares drawn in uniform white lines.

The image was of an amulet with scribbles where the runes should go in the shape of a knot. Beside the amulet, mathematical equations spanned the length of the paper, along with notes like ' _palladium?_ ' and ' _likelihood of acceptance- find_ '. These notes and the equations were barely legible, written in a connected, close hand at an angle.

"I was doing some math," Darren continued, "just using some of the basic energy readings we've done combined with metals of similar properties. Not all heavy metals are reacting the same with magic, though, like lead isn't working at all." He set a sheaf of papers in Loki's hand on top of the sketch. "Do you see any metals with similar properties that Asgard uses for stuff like this? Then we could link them to our known elements— oh, and I was wanting to learn more about the knot-weaving technique with the runes, so can we discuss that sometime soon? And then we could look into current human stuff that can track things, just in case you find the sorcerer again or someone you have to fight, you could track them back to _him_. With as much power as he uses—"

"— They," Eleanore interjected from her seat next to Steve in the book-filled alcove. "We don't know if it's a man or a woman."

That distracted Darren, so he proceeded over to Eleanore and began talking to her in rapid-fire, disjointed statements.

Loki realized that the younger Stark preferred working with her just as much as Loki did. Eleanore listened to him and knew when to interrupt to keep him on track, as she was doing now. She asked questions that clarified Darren's points and made him stop so she could repeat his words back more concisely to make sure she understood him. Listening to them, Loki understood what Darren had been trying to say to him in the first place.

"… because the blueprint gives different mass- to-storage ratios for the metals we've experimented with today, but we obviously haven't gone through all of them," the boy was saying.

"And all the combinations will take forever," Eleanore added, nodding. "That's a good idea, if our interpretations of atoms and elements correspond to what Loki learned." She met Loki's eyes and lifted an eyebrow in question.

Loki looked back down at the papers Darren had given him and started leafing through them. He was becoming highly proficient reading English, but it helped when he heard words for direct translation. The Allspeak didn't work on the written word. He hated asking Jarvis things every few minutes, especially when others were present. And a great many of the words in these papers were unfamiliar. Loki kept his eyes trained on them to hide his confusion, resolving to stay awake all night and learn the definition of every single one in the privacy of his room.

Aloud, he said, "I will need to study this further, but I see your point." Avoided eye contact, so Darren wouldn't pursue the topic.

Tony wandered over instead, but he stopped at a table about five feet away. "Jarvis, do a 3D model of the blueprint for me."

The table lit up and separated the sketch into component parts, from the chain to the ingot to the insulator. Tony sent Darren's handwriting off to the side with a wave of his hand and turned the imaged over and over, just staring at it.

"This is pretty simple, itself," he muttered to himself. "Jarvis, give me the data from the palladium experiments."

The picture was replaced with charts and numbers and words. Loki read them from the corner of his eye but, again, he was lost in definitions.

His perusal was cut short by movement from Eleanore and Steve. They were standing and stretching.

"It's a long drive back to D.C.," Steve said. "You two should head out if you want to make it back before dark. You can take my car, I'm here overnight."

Loki decided to take this opportunity to escape, himself, seeing as Steve was supposed to be in command of him anyway. He wondered why the Captain was staying the night in the company of the Starks, but didn't care enough at the moment to ask. "Pleasant evening to you," he said, following the mortal woman to the elevator. It was late afternoon now, just past four o'clock, merging into evening. Loki had hours to learn more about Midgardian scientific terms tonight, provided these mortals would leave him alone. He waited while Darren bade Eleanore a lengthy goodbye and handed her a leather-bound notebook and pen when she reminded him about it. Then the elevator shot them down to a private parking garage that held a multitude of vehicles.

Loki eyed Steve's car with distaste. "Can the vehicle not make its own way home?" An hours-long journey in cramped quarters was unappealing; his patience was worn thin by the day.

"Do you want to transport us?" Eleanore asked, sounding cautious.

"I'd find that preferable to hurling along the streets in a metal coffin." Loki shifted his papers into one arm and held out his hand.

The mortal woman shrugged and put her hand on top of his.

Loki was kinder this time about shifting them through time and space. The distance still took a toll, but Eleanore could still stand when they arrived in the main room of her apartment.

"Thanks," Eleanore said before handing over the notebook.

Loki did not immediately take it. "You don't have to pay me in blank pages."

"It's for you, though. For notes," Eleanore insisted. "Darren likes this kind of notebook because you can take the pages out and move them around if you want to. If you mention you like it, he'll give you a lot more of them. And fountain pens. How do you feel about leftovers tonight?"

"Indifferent," Loki said. Then, when she looked up for clarification, he pulled up the last dregs of his patience and pasted on an easy grin. "I likely wouldn't eat anything you made tonight anyway. I have reading to do."

Eleanore nodded. "Yeah, I have a lot of paperwork to file. And I'm still full from the pizza. Have fun reading." With that, she headed into her bedroom and greeted the dragon and the cat with equal enthusiasm.

Loki turned toward his own room and opened the door, which he kept closed for the semblance of privacy.

Something stopped him on the threshold. A scent, familiar and out of place, dredged up tea and conversation.

He reached out for the electric light to find the source of the disturbance.

Anyone else walking into the room, except, perhaps, for Eleanore, likely would not have noticed anything truly amiss. But Loki had become very familiar with everything, ranging from the bare wooden floorboards to the empty desk drawers. It was the work of his first night, since the room had been very bare.

It was still somewhat sparse, but several changes had been wrought. First, there was large green quilt on the bed, along with freshly-cleaned sheets and two additional pillows with green covers that matched the blanket covers to go along with the plain white ones. Then there was a rug right next to the bed, as long as Loki was tall and nearly as wide as the non-bed part of the room, covered in patchy squares of deep green and warm brown. A new desk chair sat on top of this, and the old one was relegated to the corner near the closet. On the bed's little table and on the desk sat matching lamps with flared white shades and golden bases. A tall, wood-scented candle also sat on the desk. A multi-image wooden picture frame adorned the formerly blank wall between the desk and the bed. Finally, filmy golden drapes hung on a burnished decorative rod above each of the two windows. Everything smelled… new. Like a mixture of laundry and chemicals and the large warehouse of a store where Eleanore bought her food.

"Huh," Eleanore said from her bedroom. She raised her voice and called, "Loki, I think my mom was here."

 _Oh_. That certainly made more sense than Loki's original theories, which consisted of Eleanore having someone deliver the items and arrange them while their team was in London, or Pepper sending even more gifts. Lydia had made things more personal.

She'd also left a folded note on one decorative pillow.

" _Loki,_

" _I came over to surprise Elle with a clean apartment when I noticed how bare your room looked, and how uncomfortable your mattress seemed. Hope you don't mind the alterations. I kept the receipt, so if you don't like anything, we can return it to the store._

" _The pictures are from security video cameras at SHIELD and at Stark Tower and some June took of you at the farm. You can change them out or add more as you spend more time here._

" _I left some stuff for Steve and Elle, too, so don't feel singled out. I accept tea visits as repayment._

" _-Lydia Engman_

" _P.S. You touch the gold part of the lamps to turn them on and off."_

Loki looked up from the note and around the room again. He didn't know how, but Lydia had gotten everything to suit his preferences. Green on the wood floor boards, for one thing, made the white walls look slightly more familiar. The curtains gave a finished air to the room that the simple blinds did not. And the lamps, when he touched one, emitted a bright, warm glow like the one in the sitting room instead of the brighter white light the ceiling fan used. Their gold, though it definitely wasn't _real_ gold, added a flair of luxury.

This room looked like someone lived here. It looked like _Loki_ lived here.

Footsteps warned him of Eleanore's approach. Loki sent the note away and turned to the door. "Yes, I dare say your mother was here."

"Wow." Eleanore chuckled incredulously. "She must have thought you could use an upgrade. Are those…" she squinted, leaning across the doorframe without entering the room. "…are those pictures?"

"Come in and see for yourself." Loki felt distantly generous as he processed the fact that this had all been done just for him. He let Eleanore approach the desk before following her to examine the images for himself.

There were eight in the frame, all arranged either upright or sprawling horizontally. The first was from the SHIELD interrogation room, capturing all the Avengers as they stared through the window at Tiryaki. Somehow, Lydia had found a still image without anyone looking particularly murderous. Tony and Romanov were in the front row with Eleanore and Darren, who were leaning against each other, as usual. Loki stood behind them next to Steve and Clint and Bruce.

Next came a photo from the night they'd captured Tiryaki, when Eleanore and Loki and Steve had been talking to Fury in the memorial park. The camera caught Eleanore excitedly speaking with a smile on her face while Loki and Steve stood to her right. _"And we got him!"_ she'd been saying, with all the elation of an untested, victorious warrior.

Then came an image from Iowa. Loki, Eleanore, Steve, and the twins trooping back up the driveway after a morning run. Steve was speaking this time, smiling more freely than usual over Eleanore's head at Loki. And the Loki from this picture was returning the grin.

Here, Loki paused. There was something in that grin… no, something absent. He looked so different, from his hair to his clothing, that at first Loki couldn't decide what made him stop and reexamine. Short hair, so the morning after the lightning strike. Midgardian exercise clothing and shoes. And he looked… happy.

Loki knew he hadn't been particularly happy at that point in time. Then, he still thought Eleanore was mainly responsible for his imprisonment, and he acted like it. And truly, there was some reservation in the smile he wore that spoke of unfamiliarity. But he was smiling, still, and his eyes weren't as haunted as his mirror usually showed.

Loki didn't know what to make of it.

"I didn't know Aunt June was taking pictures," Eleanore commented quietly.

Loki followed her gaze to the next picture down. It was the board game on the night of the storm before anyone had been eliminated. Coleman was saying something brash while moving his troops to attack Zephaniah's. Again, Loki was grinning in this picture, though this was a much more understandable expression of superiority. He'd been thinking twenty or more moves ahead, plotting to pit each player against each other one at a time. Steve, in contrast, looked like he was concentrating on a serious problem.

"I think we have _Risk_ here, if you ever want to play Steve again," Eleanore said. "Darren would probably try it too."

"Mm," Loki murmured noncommittally.

The image after this was taken in the barn. The main subject was Rose, the new calf. Eleanore was leaning over the gate on her elbows and taunting Alan with a smile. Loki was just observing the cattle, as was Steve.

As if to contrast the rural setting, the picture just beside and slightly below this one was in the autopsy lab. It caught Bruce's chuckle, Loki's smirk, and Eleanore's scrunched up face. " _I can make it up to you with a meal of your spaghetti_ ," he'd said, hoping to remind them of gore and humor before they got into a dangerous piece of work.

Then came one from the children's laboratory. It contained Loki and Eleanore alone, and they were talking over a tablet. Well, Eleanore was talking and Loki was listening. She'd been saying something about how magic and machinery had to be the same, because magic should just be a word for more advanced technology.

"Waiting to tell me how wrong I am," Eleanore said, pointing to that image with a laugh.

Loki let a surprised chuckle escape at the accuracy of that statement. "Well, you _were_ wrong."

"Yeah, yeah." She grinned and began retreating to the door. "Well, I'm glad your room looks… lived-in now. I'll tell Mom you like the stuff. Let me know if I can help with the studying, okay?"

Loki nodded, but she was already gone and the door was closed behind her. That brief moment of… of comfort had vanished with her presence. Now he had to get back to the real work at hand, frustrating and slow as it would be. He decided he'd thank Lydia later, possibly with a visit, but after this studying was over and done with so he wouldn't be delayed.

He sat in the new desk chair, which was made of the not-leather like so many chairs on this realm, and finally opened the new notebook. He pulled his own pen from the air and his phone from his pocket and was just about to speak his first unfamiliar term when there was a knock on the door.

He knew who it was by the two quick raps: Eleanore, back with some advice to share. Trying not to growl— _some_ of her information was useful, after all, and her mother had just given him a great many unwarranted gifts— Loki rose and opened the door again. "Done with your paperwork already?"

She grinned up at him from the threshold and leaned her shoulder against the frame. "I found some things that might help you."

Loki trailed his gaze down to her hands, which held an assortment of colorful items, including a few writing utensils. "I have a pen, as you can see. And I don't like decorating my writing with colored bits of paper and metal."

"Paper clips and sticky notes. I thought you might like to organize your notes by section. I'll leave them on the counter out here if you need them. The pen is one Darren gave me a while ago. It's supposed to work well with that paper." So saying, Eleanore retreated and left the things on the island a few feet from Loki's door.

He'd had enough of gifts for now, and enough distractions. Loki forced a pleasant smile and another nod, then shut his door and turned back to work. He promptly forgot about the offering. He put a sound-dampening spell over his room, enough to shut out most noises while still allowing him to hear anything as loud as a shout, so he could write in peace. Started the long, arduous process of jotting down a word as it appeared in each passage about 'heavy metals' and 'elements' and 'molecular fusions', then looking up the definition through Jarvis and writing it next to the word.

Two hours later, Loki raised his head and sniffed the air. The smell of food was wafting under the door. It was the leftover chicken Eleanore had made the night before. She called it 'exploding chicken,' but it tasted sweet instead of spicy. It had been quite good paired with potatoes and 'asparagus' shoots. She'd told him a story of Lydia cooking the dish when Eleanore was a little girl. Lydia had used a glass pan in the oven— something Eleanore didn't own, apparently— and the pan had exploded when she opened the oven door to take the finished product out.

His stomach rumbled. The words were swimming before his eyes, anyway, and it was difficult to learn like this when he had previously had weeks or months or years to master many things at once. It was time for a break.

Loki took the notebook and his phone with him and ventured into the main room. Eleanore was seated on the couch, furiously tapping away at her computer with Charlie on one side and her half-finished plate on the other, wires stuck in her ears. She only grinned in welcome before diving back into whatever 'paperwork' was on the two-dimensional screen.

Loki got himself a piece of chicken from the refrigerator and heated it with magic. He ate it standing up, contemplating the calendar above the microwave. He'd been on Earth almost exactly three weeks now. Soon he'd measure his time here in months, with no end in sight.

The thought didn't enrage him; it left him feeling empty. Thor had been here for barely three days, and he'd been deemed righteous enough to swing Mjolnir right back to Asgard.

Loki didn't want to go back to Asgard, though. There was nothing for him there any longer, except the undeserved love of Queen Frigga. He wanted to be free, that was all. First free of the Other's hold on his mind, which was growing stronger every day, then free of this planet of ants.

But while his mind was compromised, Loki decided, he could live in this quiet apartment. It was a base, and the familiar surroundings of the main room, at least, pulled him out of his own melancholy in a way that the bareness of his bedroom did not. It was the trinkets, really. They told stories. And if they were silent, Eleanore and Steve would tell stories for them. Distractions were welcome at times like this, when Loki felt like his mind was trying to devour itself as an eel eating its own tail. And now his own room had distractions, thanks to these too-kind mortals.

He chose to take his normal seat in the leather chair to continue his work, appetite gone after considering Asgard and Thor. A fresh page of the notebook was where he made a detailed list of every amulet and magical weapon he'd ever seen or owned, their properties, their metals, their creators. It was much simpler to translate Asgardian sounds into the English alphabet than it was to redefine the scientific terms for himself. Loki was still tense from the day behind him, but he would let himself go a bit here.

"When's your birthday?" Eleanore asked into the quiet of the apartment. She pulled the wires from her ears, and they clunked against her keyboard.

Loki did not bother to look up from his notes. "No date you would recognize," he replied.

"Well we need a date for licenses."

"Choose one you like, I have no preference."

"Summer or winter?" Eleanore insisted.

Loki rolled his eyes. "I said I have no preference. But you did leave out two seasons."

"You're a man of extremes," Eleanore said with a smile in her voice.

"Witty enough retort for someone who can't choose a simple day."

Eleanore sighed. "It's _your_ birthday."

"Not really," Loki said. He was growing tired of these ties that the Engman women kept trying to create. Perhaps he _would_ return the gifts just to show them he couldn't be bought. "Why not use the day I attacked New York? A suitably extreme legacy, is it not?"

That silenced her for a few minutes. Loki chanced a glance at her face and found thoughtful disquiet. She met his eyes and shrugged off her disapproval. "Sure you don't care?"

Loki nodded and returned to his notes. He was uncomfortable, now, like his very skin was crawling. Hid it under information. "Asgard's year and Midgard's never truly coincide."

"Okay." She resumed her typing with the same air of concentration as before.

Loki tried to return to his own perusal, trying to find a connection between the Asgardian and Midgardian metals, but he couldn't focus anymore. He sensed there was something Eleanore wanted to say. It hung heavy in the air, where before there had been comfortable silence.

 _That_ _'s what you cause when you bring up your past,_ he thought to himself bitterly. _These mortals like to pick and choose parts of each other to like as much as anyone on Asgard did. Some things they cannot accept._

But the silence continued until it strengthened to something with a life of its own. Like a nest of snakes. Loki knew something vile would emerge if the beast was disturbed.

"Mom said you wanted to lose."

Apparently, Eleanore was foolish or brave enough to continue.

Loki chose his words carefully. "She speaks from observation and assumption. I had no real desires of my own."

"If you did," Eleanore pressed, "would you have stopped?"

 _Reaching._ She was reaching for a hint of… something inside him. Goodness or reason or anything to redeem.

( _Nothing for you here, little girl_.)

"I attacked to win the Earth for myself," Loki said flatly, for once embracing the horrible, nasty voice of the Other. "Thanos used sentiments already present to carry out his will through me."

"But you aren't that… You don't like battle. You would have stopped." She was struggling with her words as she thought them through. Likely, Loki thought, because she knew they were false.

"I did wage battle, though," he said. "I did, and I can. And I would, to achieve a great many things."

"So you would do it all again." Eleanore looked disarmingly sad. Wide eyes full of innocent disbelief stabbed Loki straight through the heart.

If she'd acted offended or derisive, he could have brushed her off easily. But this openness tugged at him relentlessly. He hated her expression, and he hated his reaction to her expression even more. Bitterness and venom welled up to fill the painful chink in his armor. "Whatever good you hope to find in me does not exist," he said harshly, biting out the words. "Heroes are a child's dream. Thanos found a willing servant. I directed the plan to open the portal. I took Clint Barton's mind, and Erik Selvig's. I killed in the service of a killer because I wanted a throne."

Sadness left Eleanore's face during Loki's rebuttal, and it was replaced with steely determination. She set her jaw and squared her shoulders. "You lie to yourself more than anyone else."

Loki could scarcely believe she'd said that. " _You_ are the liar," he refuted. "You create this image of me, and you're so _disappointed_ when I do not adhere to the lines you've drawn."

"I'm not creating an image of you," she protested.

"Really. 'Loki is an Avenger, Loki is a hero'." He paused a moment, unable to utter her other claims made silently through her actions: _Loki is my friend, I trust Loki with my life._ "You put these words into other people's minds, and they are completely false."

"Your _actions_ make you a hero. You save people all the freaking time. You help Steve and I—"

"—Do not confuse my actions with my intentions. I push you closer to Thanos every day, you ignorant child." Finally, there it was. Out in the open, where she could find the true ugliness behind Loki's 'help'.

But Eleanore seemed to roll right over that. "Preparing us for imminent attack isn't the same as—"

"— Building soldiers," Loki interrupted again. "That is what you are to me. Shields, weapons, tools. Your pathetic existence will only serve to defeat one of my many enemies."

It took her another moment to process that, but then she shrugged. "Okay."

Sputtering was beneath him, but Loki was suddenly very close to it. "What?"

"That's fine," she said. "I never expected to live through the Thanos battle, anyway, so it's okay. If you teach me to fight, and if I can save people, then that's all I want. And in the meantime, I still like you because at least you're keeping me alive for that. I know you don't like me that much, and I don't expect you to start anytime soon. But I also think you're lying to yourself, because it's easier."

Loki wasn't prepared for that logical acceptance, nor for the accusation. He sat, gripping the arms of his chair.

"I think you would have stopped," Eleanore decided. "I think you wouldn't have done a battle like that in the first place. You'd have taken over the world like in Risk, right? Making us ally with you until we gave you the Tesseract. You play the long game. If Thor hadn't shown up, it would have worked, too."

More venomous words would distance himself from this… this. But Loki was shaken. The Other's voice was silent. He stood and turned his back, deciding whether his bedroom would be far enough away to escape this woman.

"You only act aggressive when you're backed into a corner," Eleanore concluded, as though she was stating the time of day. "I won't back you into a corner, though. I'll leave you alone for a little bit. That's what I always want when I'm stressed." The couch shifted as she stood, and her feet whispered across the floor as she went into her room and closed the door. Computer keys clicked, and music began to barely permeate the panel.

Loki remained standing on the threshold of his own room as two songs began and faded. His thoughts were racing, and with Eleanore gone, he had time and opportunity to freeze his body and focus on them wholly.

No one had ever weathered a storm of his so calmly as Eleanore and Lydia did. No one returned anger for understanding. _Terrifying_ understanding and insight. Because the worst thing about the entire interaction was that Eleanore had been right— not about Loki's true nature (she was too kind and naive and _young_ to understand the darkness he'd harbored for centuries) but about how he would have taken over Earth if he had had full control of his mind. Somehow, this witch had read him in less than a month, when his own 'family' hadn't known him so well almost all his life. And her mother had read him the first time they'd met.

Loki was used to explaining himself to people who wouldn't hear. He had grown attached to the shadows after so many decades. People did not _see_ him, they only thought they did. It was safer, more opportune. Loki could think his judgmental thoughts, he could ponder horrible plans (which he previously never truly carried out) and no one was the wiser. And when he did show his true colors, people were suitably, predictably repulsed. They hated him for saying what he was thinking. They wanted him to say what _they_ were thinking, to agree and go along. He'd learned how to do that on the surface. Another layer for outsiders to get through before they found him out.

His hands twitched. He was too tense to stay still. The apartment was too small for proper pacing. Loki glanced from Eleanore's bedroom door to the hall one, and let his thoughts guide his feet through the kitchen, out to the stairs, and up to the roof.

Warm night air greeted him, laced with fumes from machines and food and the little smoking papers that lay in the small receptacle by the door. Gravel crunched under his feet as he circled the door's little shelter and found himself alone next to a small garden area full of young plants in dirt-filled wooden boxes.

Now Loki paced the length of the building and back, expending nervous energy in quick steps. He found himself picking at the bracelet time and again, and eventually he let the warm metal become part of his thought process. The chain was smooth, slipping through his fingers like a stream.

Frigga had chosen this binding, though Odin had carried it out. What had she seen in the little mortal woman? Frigga was hopeful for Loki's happiness, in her own words. Did she think that exposing his darkest thoughts would bring him joy? Had she meant for Eleanore and Steve and Lydia to soften him?

Lightning flashed in the distance. Over the noise of the city, Loki caught the barest rumble of thunder. He didn't have much time to ponder. Nowhere to go but back to the apartment once the weather came in perhaps half an hour.

He growled and paced again. It was unbearably humid, and the gravel and concrete were giving off heat in waves from the absent setting sun, which was hidden behind the approaching thunderheads. No breeze swept the heat away, either. It was the sort of calm that fell before Thor's temper tantrums unleashed all sorts of chaos. The city was loud, but the trees and lawns around the building were silent. The animals were wise enough to shelter themselves and wait.

Why did humans not follow such basic instincts? Why did Eleanore and Steve not back away when Loki threatened them? Why did Eleanore accept Loki's disdain so calmly?

" _I never expected to live through the Thanos battle anyway, so it_ _'s okay._ "

But there was acceptance of one's mortality, and then there was foolishness. Though Thor and many others on Asgard called foolishness 'bravery,' Loki knew the mortals could be slightly more logical. He'd seen them retreat, accept backup, plan attacks instead of charging in.

It was more than that, though, that led Loki's feet around the rooftop. Even before she'd shown her peculiar insight, Eleanore had accepted Loki's dark thoughts without complaint. The familiar expression of fear mixed with disgust that he'd seen so many times before was completely absent. Just "Okay," and nothing else. So like her mother. So _very_ like her mother. Those two women… They accepted the worst about him, and probably about others, without batting an eye. It drew him in, it disarmed him.

The thunder was closer now. Not close enough to shock in its noise, but humans should be able to hear it. Loki paused along the edge of the building closest to the street and found pedestrians looking up at the sky before scurrying on their way.

They were so weak. Loki saw them from high above, as though he were the god their ancestors had thought him to be. In some ways, he was more. In many ways, less.

He did not care what those arrogant insects thought of him. He barely cared if Thanos crushed this entire realm, except for the link the Mad Titan would find to Loki.

 _So why, then, did you mind when that mortal child was disappointed in you earlier?_

Loki scowled. This voice was different from the harsh one, though it was equally disturbing. It was his past self, the part he'd long thought dead. The part he'd _wanted_ to die, back when he'd let go of Gungnir on the bridge. But it was there, annoyingly, and he had to answer it. _No doubt her empathic powers drew that reaction from me._

Of course that was it. Eleanore had been hurt by his tone, his harsh words, and she had made him feel that hurt in some conscious or unconscious retaliation. Loki did not _care_ that she was hurt. It was proximity, not attachment.

" _But I also think you_ _'re lying to yourself, because it's easier._ " Eleanore's voice joined Loki's already overcrowded mind.

Loki hissed air through his gritted teeth and started pacing again with renewed vigor. Walking in a square was hardly the way to outrun his demons, but it was better than nothing. He needed to get away from them, away from the past, and focus on the future he'd forced himself into.

So. Eleanore knew about Loki's plan to use the Avengers to defeat Thanos. Steve would likely know soon as well. That was just as well; perhaps it would even distance them a bit.

"… _I still like you because at least you_ _'re keeping me alive for that_."

There went that hope. Steve was just as likely to cling to Loki as she was, and they both called him 'friend' whether he liked it or not.

Lightning struck perhaps ten miles away. The thunder traveled to wash over the land in a low roar. The heat was more oppressive now.

Loki didn't know why the mortals insisted on claiming him. He didn't know why he cared so much about it, either. Surely their attachment was useful, whether or not it was reciprocated. Willing tools were best.

 _But I am unworthy of their camaraderie. Even I cannot lie to myself about that._

Because they were too kind, all of them. Even Tony, the formerly suspicious genius, now offered his home to Loki 'whenever he needed a place to crash,' as he'd said earlier that very day during a lull in the experiments. Darren freely lent or gifted anything Loki asked for in a heartbeat. Bruce gave advice softly and protection easily. Pepper Potts was thoughtful and generous to a fault. Clint Barton had forgiven, and so far had shown nothing but acceptance in their limited interactions. Natasha Romanov was a closed book, but not an openly hostile one. Lydia watched and gave and mothered openly.

And then there were _his_ mortals. The two he was assigned to protect. The ones who had first brought him back, who'd believed in him for some reason from the beginning. They were so stubborn and childish in some ways, so jaded in others. It wasn't fair that they'd been stuck with Loki, but they seemed to think he was… useful, at least. Acceptable. They let him air unpleasant ideas without turning him away.

Steve was the first to do such a thing. That night seemed so long ago, when the Captain was recovering from Tiryaki's torture. From then to now, the fair-haired man had seemed to assume Loki's involvement with the side of all he deemed _good_ and _right_ and _honest_. He was trusting to the point of gullibility. He was perceptive to others' strengths. He knew when Loki needed a break, and when to push him. He trusted every other Avenger as an equal.

And Eleanore. Where Steve was simple to read, she was much more complex. Just when Loki thought he could predict her words and actions, she defied him with a smile. Sarcastic but honest, confident but cautious. Apparently more observant than he'd ever suspected. Unfailingly kind.

A fresh, cool breeze finally swept over the rooftop. It carried the scent of rain and the energy of the storm.

Loki breathed it in and closed his eyes. He had a decision to make. He could hide on the roof some more, or he could descend and face the mortal. Facing her was an ominous prospect simply because of Eleanore's thoughtful brown eyes that saw who-knew-how-much. Hiding was pathetic.

Loki had always fought against being pathetic.

He resolutely approached the door's shelter as thunder finally crashed through the air. The storm was nearly upon them now, only a mile away at most. It echoed in the stairwell as Loki swept down the two flights.

The door to the apartment was still unlocked. When Loki entered, Eleanore's bedroom was still closed and music was still playing. Charlie leapt from the couch to greet him with a very loud trill.

Loki contemplated using the desk in his room to finish working on his notes, then discarded the idea. The storm would distract him as they always did. Instead, he took a seat on the couch and watched the lightning flash. The tree's branches made interesting patterns in the intermittent light, as they were tossed to and fro by the wind.

Loki remained still when Charlie jumped into his lap, when there were footsteps from behind Eleanore's door, and when she emerged.

"Hey," she greeted him with the same smile of welcome as always. Now she was dressed in looser clothing: trousers that descended in shiny black waves to just above her ankles and a bulky, dark pink long-sleeved shirt.

Loki did not want to return to their earlier discussion. He also did not want to drive her away right now. In the warm light of the lamp, he could face a truth: he enjoyed her company at times. And perhaps if he engaged her now, he could find out when she was observing him so closely. "Would you care for a game?" he asked.

That made her pause. "Yeah," she replied after a moment. "I have some in the pantry, actually. Or do you have one?"

Loki thought of summoning the set of playing cards that went along with a Vanir game called Wayward Chance. It was complicated, though, and he wanted something more mindless. And Eleanore was terrible at strategy. "What do you have here?"

"Risk," she answered immediately, looking at the ceiling in thought. "Um, chess and checkers. I have 'Sorry,' if you'd like something new. Or I have a couple decks of cards so we could play poker again. Monopoly, but that always ends in a fight… Do you want to play Risk?"

Loki shook his head. "You would be terrible at it. And two people hardly makes the game interesting."

"I have Life," Eleanore continued. "Or Scrabble?" She seemed slightly more excited about that last suggestion.

"What is Scrabble?"

"A word game. You have letter tiles, and you arrange them to make words out of other words."

Too complicated. "Cards sounds lovely."

Eleanore nodded. "Poker? Or I know some other games."

"Poker," Loki decided. If he grew bored, he'd ask about the other games.

Eleanore opened the pantry door, reached up to the top shelf, and came back into the main room with two boxes: one of cards, and one of cookies.

"We can play for these," she said, shaking the cookies. She set both boxes on the little table between the chairs, then turned her reading chair until its back was to the window. "I'll go to the bathroom, and then we can get started," she informed him. "There's sparkling grape juice in the fridge if you want it."

Loki stood and moved his chair as she disappeared into the bathroom. Then he got a couple of the long-stemmed glasses from the cupboard and filled them with the purple-red drink. By the time he returned to his seat, Eleanore was emerging from the bathroom. She'd tied her hair back with a clip, though curls were already threatening an escape.

"Yum, thanks." She took a drink from her glass and sat across the table. "So, Texas Holdem? Five-Card-Draw?"

Loki chose the simplest one. "Five-card-draw."

Eleanore nodded and extracted the cards from the box. Unlike the ones from the electronic game, which had blue or red designs that corresponded with the font of the numbers and letters, these had a picture of a bulbous creature with two fins for arms and a strange, dog-like face.

"What is this?" Loki asked, taking one of the Joker cards as she discarded them.

"A manatee," Eleanore answered. "They live in the fresh water of Florida. I got these cards down there."

Loki remembered her living grandparents were in Florida. "What purpose do these creatures serve?" he asked.

"No real purpose, except as part of the ecosystem." Eleanore shuffled the cards in an impressive display of dexterity. "They were endangered, but they're making a comeback. They're mammals that live in the water, and they're really calm. I swam with them while I was there."

This was the gap in the conversation where Loki could either ask her another question or share something personal himself. He decided to share a harmless story from when he was a boy so he could watch Eleanore's face as he told it. Maybe he could see her turning basic information into intuition. "When I was a child, the royal family would often visit the coast of the Ending Ocean on Asgard. It is populated with fish, not with mammals."

Eleanore betrayed no subversion, though she did look up during his story as she dealt the cards. "What kind of fish?"

Loki picked up his five. A pair of sixes, a three, a nine, and a Queen. "I doubt you would know their species if I named them."

Thunder cracked in unison with a close lightning bolt. The lights flickered, but they stayed on.

"I'm glad Steve's in New York still," Eleanore commented, abandoning the fish of Asgard.

Steve's earlier parting played again in a quick memory. He'd mentioned an overnight stay, but Loki had expected him to return either way, a moth drawn to the warm light of Eleanore's apartment. "Planning more strategies with the Starks, is he?"

Eleanore chuckled. "No. He's going to film the PSA things they asked him for early tomorrow morning. I think he's staying at the Tower because Pepper invited him."

Loki remembered that conversation. Steve had asked Eleanore about the offer days before, when he'd received it, and she'd explained what might be expected of him. "Captain America warning your youth of ill-considered relationships. I would like two new cards."

"Mr. Rogers saying 'be a good neighbor, kids!'" Eleanore laughed harder and exchanged Loki's cards and her own. "Oh, you don't get that reference, but it's hilarious."

"A teacher you had?" Loki guessed. He'd gotten another nine and a queen in exchange for his three and nine.

"No, it was a TV show from when I was a kid. _Mr. Rogers_ _' Neighborhood._ The host was Mr. Rogers, and he told stories and talked to the kids like we were smart. And he always wore bomb-ass cardigans, and he had house shoes and outside shoes. He died, though, when I was like ten years-old. The theme song of the show is _Won_ _'t You Be My Neighbor?_ And he composed the songs himself. I think the Smithsonian had a sweater of his a few years back."

Loki listened, though he did not understand most of what she said. He laid down his cards in reply. "Do you concede?"

"Yes." Eleanore showed him a pair of twos, an eight, a Jack, and a King. "Your turn to deal."

They continued like that. Eleanore was very talkative, so Loki simply let her speak and watched her reactions every time he responded. Nothing seemed strange, though. He didn't bother with much bluffing, as he could tell when he was going to win or lose by his own hand (Eleanore had a run of bad luck that lasted six games). She didn't seem to mind losing, eagerly speaking instead about the storm, her past, the times she'd played poker with her cousins. She wasn't lying or acting for his benefit. Loki could find nothing in her behavior that said she was watching him closely either in his memories of her or in the present.

Loki wasn't frustrated with this. He was intrigued. How did her mind pull intimate truths from the air, when she normally seemed to be thinking about something entirely different? Could she explain other people the same way?

" _There_ we go!" Eleanore exclaimed, laying down a full house.

"Finally," Loki said. "I was thinking of drifting off, to see if I could beat you in my sleep."

"You probably could," Eleanore admitted. "You're really good at reading people."

 _And you are not?_ Loki decided to take a chance. "Why did you say I lie to myself?"

Eleanore bit her lip and fidgeted with the cards. "That wasn't the right way to say it. I meant you don't know yourself very well."

"Shall I rephrase my question?" Loki asked, keeping his voice even. He knew she would stop the conversation if she felt it was dangerous.

"No." She set the deck aside. "I meant you haven't done a lot of self-reflection. Um, like, humans are encouraged to get to know themselves pretty well. In America, at least. Kind of. We have psychology and stuff, counseling. We take tests and go into careers that are based on our interests and personalities. A lot of communication— well, _skilled_ communication— is taking a step back and analyzing why people say what they do, and why _you_ say what you do. And you haven't done that."

"Because I am not a skilled communicator." Loki was not insulted. He appreciated her honesty, even though he thought she was incredibly misguided. He _knew_ others, he knew why they did what they did, and he knew how to manipulate them to do as he pleased. In most cases. Thor, at least. Usually.

"No, because you didn't have the chance," Eleanore contradicted. "I mean, did anyone on Asgard sit you down and go, 'Okay Loki, here's a series of personality tests. You take them to see where your career preferences might lie'? Or 'Loki, be true to yourself, find out what you like to do'? No, they didn't do that. You were a prince; that was your childhood, adolescence, and career path."

"You make it sound as if I had no choices," Loki commented. "Yes, I was raised to be a prince, but I explored other interests as I found them. Is that not the self-reflection you speak of?"

"Kind of. Not quite, though." More lip biting, and a moment of silence.

Loki sat still and let her think. His eyes drifted over to the rain-spattered window panes where the storm was still raging away.

He knew when she would speak again by the sharp intake of breath. "Okay. So one of your choices that you made was to learn about magic."

"Yes," Loki agreed. "And it was a choice that I made because I like learning, and I have a skill for magic."

"But," Eleanore continued, "you didn't just _learn_ it. You mastered it, Loki. Best sorcerer in the Nine realms? And you're pretty young for that title, too. That must have taken a lot of work, and even now you're still working to create more spells and stuff."

"Do you have a point, or are you complimenting me?" Loki asked with an easy smile.

"I have a point. My point is: Why did you push yourself so hard? And over something Asgardians don't even like?"

"That's not a point, it is two questions," Loki hedged. _Questions I_ _… may not know the answer to_. "I see the value in knowledge, I suppose. Magic is a tangible form of knowledge. I never understood why other Asgardians didn't 'like' it." He stopped himself there. _And I am not Asgardian. No wonder I never fit._

But Eleanore was nodding excitedly. "Yes, right. It's weird that they don't like it, when a lot of technology and stuff relies on magic there. You'd think they would respect the people who make advancements to make life easier."

"You would think," Loki agreed vaguely. This seemed to be more of an examination of others than of himself.

"So why do you think differently?" Eleanore inquired to the ceiling. "Why are your thought processes so…"

 _Monstrous_ , Loki's mind supplied. "Wrong," he said aloud.

"I was going to say 'logical'," Eleanore countered.

Loki shook his head. " _Logic_ would dictate that I adhere to the general consensus." He'd heard enough arguments to that effect over the course of his life. A prince was supposed to uphold his realms' values, not throw them into question.

"Mm, not really. You can be logical, and everyone else can be illogical. It's not easy, but it's true. We had an… astronomer, I think. His name was Copernicus. Like five hundred years ago, give or take. Back then, the Catholic church was in charge of a lot in Europe, and they had a generally understood school of thought that they taught to the general masses. Part of it was that they thought the Earth was the center of the Universe and everything revolved around that, because the church thought God made us the most important thing, you know. In his image. So most people believed that the Sun revolved around the Earth, if they thought about it at all. But Copernicus charted the stars and planets, and he did math, and he discovered that the Earth actually revolves around the Sun."

"A wise mortal," Loki conceded.

"We think that _now_ ," Eleanore said, pointing a finger at him. "Back then, though, the Church called his discovery heresy. A lot of people didn't believe him even after he was dead. And then this guy named Galileo agreed with him, and the Church put him on trial and threatened him with torture if he didn't redact. Some people from another religion supported him, and so did some scientists, but the Church was more powerful. So they put him on house arrest until he died and defamed him for a long time. So," she concluded, "being right isn't the same as being accepted."

"So you would think that all of Asgard is wrong?" Loki asked.

"Did all of Asgard think magic is actually dishonorable? Or did Odin think that and teach Thor?" Eleanore asked. "Societal acceptance of something doesn't mean everyone thinks it's true. Actually, most people can disagree with it as long as those in power maintain control of the loudspeakers."

Loki sat back. The storm was mostly past, and only rain spat against the windows in occasional gusts of wind. "Does poker always lead you to such insights?" he finally asked.

Eleanore came back from staring through him and smiled. "It's kind of late at night and I'm tired. I get philosophical."

It was nearly ten o'clock. Their games had taken longer due to conversation. Still, Loki had no idea how or when Eleanore would have observed him. And after this last bout of discussion, he was left with even more questions.

 _May as well try everything_ , he thought wearily. "How do you know so much of me? Are you truly a mind-reader?"

Eleanore looked confused. "Nooo?" she answered, drawing the word into a question.

"Then where do your insights come from?" Loki demanded, sitting forward.

Eleanore shrugged and yawned. "Past experience, I guess. I've been around you a lot these last few weeks, so I've observed a lot about you. You're my coworker, _and_ my roommate, so there's really no escape. I mull things over in my head quite a bit until they make sense to me. I remember things you say or do, or how you act when someone mentions something. I know people well, if I know them at all. And honestly, I just make educated guesses."

"Educated guesses," Loki muttered in disbelief. "You seem very sure of your guesses."

She smiled wider. "Mom says I'm arrogant."

"Would you agree with that assessment?" Loki challenged.

"I'd say I'm discerning and confident," Eleanore hedged. "Everyone's arrogant, sometimes. Like you say: it's not arrogance if you can back it up."

Loki felt a grin creep over his face. "One more question," he said.

"What's that?"

"If I had denied your educated guesses, would you have believed me?"

Eleanore thought it over. "Yeah, I probably would have, if you proved me wrong. But if you just went 'Nuh-uh,' I would have thought, 'Methinks thou doth protest too much'." She crossed her arms. "I'm a little naive, but not that bad. You know I can tell when you're lying."

"To myself." Loki wouldn't believe that. How could it be a lie, if he was not aware of it? Had he sunk so low?

"Most of the time," Eleanore confirmed with that brash confidence. "I wish we had a Mirror of Erised for you to look into."

"Are you going to get one?" Loki asked, wondering what sort of contraption it was.

"It's another reference," Eleanore said. Then she straightened and gave an excited, "Oh!" She leapt over the arm of her chair and dashed into her room.

Loki listened to a furious scuffle that sent Charlie darting from the bedroom in a huff. _Is she having a conniption?_ he wondered. _Did all that educated guessing drive her mad?_

The scuffling stopped and footsteps returned in the form of Eleanore with a load of books in her arms. "Here," she said, dumping them into Loki's lap triumphantly. "Homework."

Loki gingerly examined the top book. _Harry Potter and The Sorcerer_ _'s Stone_. A boy with dark hair and glasses on the cover reaching for a golden ball. "What am I to work on?"

"It's a story that influenced my generation," Eleanore informed him happily. She was so _excited_ that it was making Loki's heart jump around. She balanced on her toes unconsciously and tipped forward to show him the rest of the stack. "I put them in chronological order for you. They're not tough to read. I bet you get done with them in a week or less."

Loki skeptically examined the rest of the covers. The same boy doing all sorts of strange things. "These books influenced your generation to become delusional?"

Eleanore breezed over that with a wave of her hand. "Steve's a Gryffindor. I think Clint and I are Hufflepuffs. Tony and Darren and Bruce are Ravenclaws, obviously, and Natasha is almost definitely a Slytherin. And, if nothing else, you can tell me how wrong the interpretation of magic is."

 _Definitely delusional. Lack of sleep, probably._ Nonetheless, her happiness and smiles were amusing and infectious, and she spoke so quickly it seemed she would soon run out of air. Loki smiled. "And what nonsense word have you assigned to me, my lady?"

Eleanore bounced again. "I think the cool part about these books is that you get to figure it out for yourself as you read them."

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. "You already know."

"I do," she agreed, "but only because I'm very good at educated guesses."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Go to bed. Perhaps I will read these, but not with you standing over me."

"In order!" Eleanore demanded, even as she retreated to the bathroom.

Loki was very close to mimicking her the way children did. _In order!_ his own voice sounded in his head in a poor imitation of Eleanore. That was what he had done to his most disliked tutors, copying their voices almost exactly and saying ridiculous things. It had always made Thor laugh.

Thinking of Thor was enough to banish any amusement from Loki's mind. His eyes settled on the children's tale Eleanore had dumped in his lap.

Eleanore darted out of the bathroom then and picked something out of her purse. "Here." She held out a folded bit of black leather.

Loki took it and unfolded it. There was Midgardian money inside, along with two cards: one that contained numbers and one that had his face again. "I presume an explanation comes with this gift?"

"It's a wallet," she informed him, speaking very quickly. "I picked up your debit card today. I'm a co-operator on your account right now, just in case there's a problem. I withdrew a hundred dollars in cash from your last check, which should last you on food until we get your next paycheck cashed, especially if you're hanging out with Darren." Loki couldn't tell if she was even breathing between each sentence anymore. "Your spare SHIELD ID is in there too, which is your only form of identification now, so keep it handy. I'll teach you how to drive next time we go to the meadow, so maybe in a few days. Oh, you keep your wallet in your back pocket, usually. Keep cash on you, just in case you need to buy something without a paper trail. But for your card, your PIN number is 2412. Don't take it out on the street or the bus or the train or anywhere you could get pick-pocketed. Do you know how dollars and cents work? Okay, here you have five ones, five fives, a twenty, and a fifty dollar bill. The dollars are indicated before a decimal point on a price, like five-point-zero-one—"

"— Eleanore," Loki interrupted her, "I'd learn better if I could look through the contents myself. I'll ask any questions I may come up with."

"But I'm not always there, and neither is Steve," she protested. "Look, at least let me teach you about prices on things."

"I experienced Midgardian monetary practices on previous visits," Loki insisted. "It's not difficult, and not so different from Asgard, Alfheim, and Vanaheim. Your kind just deals in paper instead of coins."

"We have coins, too," Eleanore told him. "Pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters. Pennies are worth one cent— here, I'll show you." Before he could protest, she darted into her room and emerged with a hand full of coins. "Pennies are the little copper ones. Nickels are these, worth five cents. Dimes are ten, and quarters are twenty-five. Change isn't used a ton, unless you happen to have the exact amount, but you can use it for parking meters all over the city, or for cheap things (not that anything is really cheap) or for laundry in the basement. Quarters are for laundry."

"Look, I'll simply leave if you don't stop spouting facts at me." Loki was mostly jesting, but he was also a bit irritated. The tone he used implied more irritation than jest.

Eleanore heard it and quieted a bit, looking reproachful. "I'm trying to help before you need it."

"Very pragmatic," Loki congratulated her sarcastically. "I'll ask for help _if_ I need it."

"No you won't," she insisted.

"Perhaps not from _you_ ," Loki amended.

"From _anyone_. You hate asking questions. I just watched you fuck around on a tablet for half an hour the other day instead of asking me how to save a file."

Loki glowered at her. He'd struggled quietly, hoping no one else had noticed while the children blathered on at him about Earth's 'laws of physics'. "You could have offered to show me. Succinctly."

"You could have asked. Politely."

"I taught myself the lesson, and now I'll remember forever how to save a file on an inane piece of your antiquated Midgardian machines." He was getting more worked up than was, strictly speaking, necessary. He breathed in through his nose. "I don't need to be shown everything on your planet. I'm hardly a child."

"Midgardian machines…" Eleanore wasn't listening to him any longer, looking straight through Loki, lost in thought. She came back when he finished speaking. "Okay, just one more teaching moment for today."

"It's not time to bargain," Loki told her flatly.

"I'm not bargaining," Eleanore said with an easy smile that said she was absolutely unafraid of him. "Here, let me see your phone."

As if he'd listen to such an imposing order. "No."

"Loki."

" _Eleanore_."

She lost her domineering attitude in a real laugh, though that wasn't much better. "This is ridiculous. Just hand me your phone for two minutes."

She was laughing at herself, too. Loki could tell because Lydia did the same thing when they would get into a light argument over nothing of importance, and Eleanore had shown this tendency before when discussing stupid disagreements with Darren.

But if Loki conceded, she might actually laugh at him again. "What do you need from my phone?"

"It's a different model than mine. I want to show you something."

"What do you want to show me?"

"How to be cooperative: 101," she deadpanned. When Loki wrinkled his nose at the joke he didn't fully understand, she grew earnest. "Just something real quick. It's easier to show you than to explain. So you won't have to ask me any questions, probably ever again."

That was an appealing offer. Loki narrowed his eyes, but found nothing but the truth from her. He summoned his cell phone to his hand and exchanged it for the wallet. Maneuvered around to look over her head at the device.

"Thanks." Eleanore lit the screen and went into the section marked 'Applications.' She found a colorful symbol and dragged it to rest on the initial screen, next to the games. Then she dragged all the games together into one tiny spot, where they shrank together into a circle. "To save space," she explained. "Okay, here's your best tool for learning something quickly. It got me and just about everyone from my generation through school. It's called Google."

"Google." That word felt ridiculous on Loki's tongue. He stepped around to look over her shoulder more clearly as she pressed the colorful symbol. He realized it was shaped like a letter 'G'. When pressed, it brought up a mostly-white screen with a smaller white box and the word 'Google' above it in colorful letters.

"It's called a search engine," Eleanore continued, now speaking more slowly. "There are a lot of search engines, but this one is the best. Jarvis even uses it when he has to. Steve likes it a lot. Search engines look up anything you want. All you have to do is type in the term for what you need to know. So…" she furrowed her brow and looked up at him. "What's a question you have about Earth stuff?"

Loki frowned. _How long can you speak before exhausting yourself?_ was his reflexive response. But instead he settled for, "How many languages does Midgard have?"

"Okay. Good one." Eleanore tapped the smaller white box, and a vertical black line appeared. The entire screen also shifted upward to reveal the normal series of characters and numbers. "So you want as few words to search with as possible. We'll use, 'Number of languages on Earth'." She typed that in very quickly and pressed the button on the keyboard marked 'Go'.

The page changed again to a white background covered in blue and black text. 'Languages of Earth,' 'Linguistics,' 'Languages by region,' 'Dialects.'

"These are your results," Eleanore said, pressing on the top blue text. "It's a bunch of websites with the information you want. You choose the one that looks best, and here. This says there are over seven thousand languages in the world."

Loki was intrigued both by the results and the device. He didn't need to ask Jarvis for help anymore, surreptitiously whispering where he hoped no one could see. He suppressed the urge to thank Eleanore, not wanting to encourage more 'teaching moments'.

"You can type in questions, too," she was saying. "But I've had the best results with sticking to simple terms. Oh, and you can say, 'Okay, Google,' and speak your search terms if you want, but typing is quieter."

Loki had a question just then, so he asked. "Will it respond if I speak to it?"

"Only like this." She tapped on another small icon set into the right corner of the box. "Okay Google. What movies are playing tonight?"

" _Here are the movies playing in your area._ " A female's monotone responded pleasantly, bringing up results in a list, below which were more 'websites'.

Eleanore handed the phone back. "It's not as smart as Jarvis, but it's something I find useful. And I'm not the only one— Darren and Tony and Bruce Google things all the time. Tony and Darren don't like to admit it, but they do."

So that was how Bruce found such a plethora of meditation advice. Loki tried typing 'meditation guidance' in the box. Pictures with sideways arrowheads on them appeared, all headed with a website named 'YouTube.' He tried again with 'engine parts' and got a myriad of results. This was like having a library— many libraries worth of information in his hand, without the bulky scrolls and books and parchments. Loki tapped the blue text of the first website and started reading the long, detailed explanation of different Midgardian engines for all the known vehicles, and their components.

Eleanore moved away at that point without a word, heading back into her room. Soon after, there were a few _clinks_ of the coins in her hand falling into something made of glass, and then the sigh of bedsprings and the tapping of computer keys.

Loki tore himself away from reading to make his way over to his chair. Then he immersed himself again and looked up term after term. He found 'articles' on a site called Wikipedia, which were organized and contained blue text that led to other articles about similar topics. It was a continuous stream of information, and he soaked it up like a sponge.

"Not to make you growl at me again," Eleanore's voice pulled him from neutrons and their properties, "but you can read that stuff on your computer, too. Just in case you don't want to keep squinting at your phone." She was somehow sitting at the kitchen island, her own computer in front of her along with a glass of water. The apartment was dark except for the light from Loki's phone screen and the electric bulb above the island. Charlie slept on Eleanore's reading chair, and Jet was sprawled across the sofa. The storm had stopped sometime, leavings its drying raindrops on the windows.

Loki hadn't heard her emerge from her bedroom. He also hadn't noticed half an hour passing on the wall's clock. He blinked, realizing she was watching him cautiously. Waiting for him to lash out and trying to hide it. He knew because he'd proposed things and been rejected— harshly, most of the time— on too many occasions to count, and he'd eventually given up. _Is that who I want to be? Someone who hurts those trying to teach me?_

The answer to that was a resounding _'No_ ,' accompanied by a pang of guilt. He took a second to soften his tone and expression into something resembling amiability. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," she answered, still watching him.

Loki considered his options. He could apologize outright for his impatience, or he could show contrition through a gesture. Actions carried more weight than words, he'd found. Especially _his_ words. He cleared his throat and offered a small smile. "Could I trouble you for another demonstration?"

Eleanore looked like she wanted to question him at first, but she didn't. Instead, she nodded and gestured to her laptop. "Yours or mine?"

"Mine." Loki thought, since she'd used his cell phone, his device might also be the best option here. He rose and quickly retrieved it from his room. The battery was only at half power, but it would suffice for a short lesson. He set it on the counter in front of Eleanore as she slid her computer out of the way. Kept a fair distance from Eleanore's back this time as he observed, wanting to limit his potential to threaten.

"Okay." Eleanore took a deep breath, glancing back at him. "I have to explain a few more things on here."

"Please." Loki gestured to the computer. "Explain away."

That seemed to finally satisfy her caution. She turned back to the computer, concentrating. "So on a computer, you have a web browser… oh my god, you only have Internet Explorer."

"What?" Loki asked, leaning in to find the arrow symbol hovering above the icon that was a large, blue 'e'. From her tone, he gathered that this was terrible.

"It's a really bad browser," she explained, clicking on it. "It comes pre-installed on these machines, but people basically only use it to download a different browser. I'm going to download Chrome, since you like Google. Google is a company, by the way, like Stark Industries. Chrome is the web browser they developed."

"Alright." Loki nodded along. He understood, so far, that he needed a new program to access the Internet. He filed everything else away to look up later. "May I ask why one 'web browser' is superior?"

"You can ask anything you want," Eleanore informed him absently, navigating herself to a page with a colorful circle, information on 'Chrome', and options for 'downloading'. "Let's see…" she said to herself. "Okay, control panel." She started clicking through more programs that Loki had not yet explored on any computer and muttering unfamiliar terms to herself. She looked back at him a moment. "This is a 64-bit machine running Windows 7, so if you're doing to download a program, get the 64-bit version for Windows 7. See?" She showed him on the Chrome screen.

"I see," Loki said, though he didn't know why 64 bits would be different than 32 of them. Whatever bits were. He could look that up, now, but he suppressed the urge, watching intently.

"Not that you should download a lot until you know what's safe," Eleanore continued. "And I should teach you about web safety while we're doing this, just really quick."

Loki shrugged, though she wasn't looking at him. "I am not averse to learning."

"Okay, I'll explain while Chrome is installing." Eleanore turned on the stool to partly face him, though one hand still rested on the touch pad. "There are these things called 'viruses' that people plant on some websites. They can do anything from stealing your personal information to making ads pop up constantly. You can avoid them with an antivirus program, which Darren has on here, but it doesn't catch everything because people are constantly writing new viruses."

"Why are they writing new ones?" Loki asked when she paused for breath.

"Some use personal information to take money, like out of your bank account." Eleanore motioned to his wallet, which he'd left on the little table between the two chairs. "Some just like to cause problems. Darren and Tony write viruses to steal SHIELD's information, although you shouldn't tell anyone that. But anyway, it shouldn't be an issue if you stick to reputable sites. Google will bring up the most popular links for you first, and those are usually safe. If it's labeled 'ad' to the side, though, don't click on it. Oh, and Internet Explorer is worse because it's insecure, and because it doesn't work well a lot of the time."

"I understand." Loki watched something appear in the middle of the screen that said, 'Chrome Setup.'

Eleanore responded to the prompt, navigating through each setting. "I'll use your email account on here. It stores your search preferences, but I can show you how to avoid that if you want more privacy." She typed in , and then the short password associated with the program. "This is your email address, by the way. Everyone has it, so they'll probably send you things once in a while."

"I've heard of such a thing. But I don't have any preferences yet," Loki mused aloud, even as he watched her 'sign in' to the mysterious 'email address' that everyone referred to.

"I mean it stores everything you ever search for on a database. SHIELD can hack into those databases. Actually, tons of people can. If you need to look for something sensitive, ask Jarvis to do it."

 _You_ _'re telling me how to avoid unwanted scrutiny?_ "That's remarkably trusting of you." And why was she so open about such things? What about Loki, the man no one ever trusted for long, made her tell him everything?

"Jarvis watches this computer," she said. "But we're covert agents, too. It's kind of important for you to know the basics of Internet privacy policies. And it's also common knowledge here."

"I see." So she hadn't told him anything truly subversive, except for asking Jarvis to help. Still. "You have no trouble obscuring information from SHIELD."

"I'll tell them what they need to know. They're government, though, and I don't fully trust such large agencies." She finished 'setup' of Chrome and rose from the stool. "Here, you can try it out."

Loki sat, noting that Google was the first page to appear when he clicked on the image for Chrome. "Excellent." He also took a moment and turned to the side to meet her eyes. "Thank you, Lady Eleanore."

She wrinkled her nose at the title. "You're welcome. I can show you more tricks for the Internet later, if you'd like."

Loki gauged his own patience levels— surprisingly high for now— against his wish to immerse himself again in the information. He also wondered what she'd been doing on her computer, and how long she was willing to stay up tonight. "Do you have time for a few more teaching moments?"

Eleanore smiled at that. "Yes. I was just reading up on old research anyway really quick, and filing some more forms. Click on that button up there, right next to where it says 'Google'."

What followed were more instructions and a great deal of explanation. Loki followed most of it easily, appreciating that Eleanore had taken the hint and was letting him learn by experience. And he had to admit she was an acceptable teacher. She took the time to explain everything, making sure her way of wording made perfect sense to Loki before moving on. She tailored lessons to his previous experience, and expanded upon what he mentioned he already knew.

He filed away every tidbit of fact she mentioned, from how the Internet came to be to the definition of porn.

"And you don't frown upon that?" he asked when she told him.

"Not consensual stuff," she said. "I frown if people are exploited, but otherwise it's fine."

"What do you… never mind." Loki had been about to ask what use such content could possibly serve, but his mind moved more quickly than his mouth and he figured it out with a blush.

"Just to warn you, some porn sites also have viruses. If you use them—"

"—I won't be participating in that, thank you." He kept his tone genial, but he wanted to change the subject _now_. He'd hardly attempt such a debasing act with Heimdall watching him, anyway. "Have you ever heard of something called Wikipedia?"

"Yes," she laughed, leaning an elbow on the counter. "That's how I got so many sources for my research papers in college. It's amazing."

Then she launched into an explanation of 'scholarly versus unscholarly sources' and why that mattered in learning institutions. And she told him about 'crowdsourcing' and how people worked on articles in their area of expertise in their spare time. For once, Loki was glad of the diverse and large population of Midgard, for it meant that thousands of new topics were being published every day. Perhaps one day he'd be led to something featuring magical theory he'd contributed to the human race. It would have been so much simpler to study if he had things like this on Asgard.

From there, Loki learned about YouTube and social media and keyboard 'shortcuts' to use on Chrome. Eleanore explained how practicing his typing on free websites would make him as proficient as she was, when he commented on her typing speed. She showed him how to open things in a new 'tab' so he could preserve his current page as he looked for something different. She focused on communication platforms for the most part, helping Loki to find ways of covertly asking her questions through 'chat' and the ever-present 'email', and showing him how to find locations on a 'map' so he wouldn't need to ask for directions. Then she told him about online shopping, and how to be careful when doing it. Always, it seemed, someone could steal his name or his money.

"I can't think of anything else right now," she said finally, putting her hands on her hips with a yawn. "Let me know if you have questions."

"I will." He gave a friendly grin. "Thank you again. This was most informative."

"It's no problem." She looked at the clock in the living room. "I think I'll go to bed."

"Pleasant dreams." One of them might as well enjoy sleep, however little night was left. He was already planning to greet the dawn with no rest, avoiding nightmares and pursuing as much as he could learn in one swoop.

"Thanks." She went into the restroom again and closed the door.

Loki went back to typing and clicking through articles and 'safe' websites. He lit upon a line of research dedicated to 'dark matter,' and began to wade through unfamiliar terms, looking up each definition as he needed it. He was hoping to find some connection to magic through this, because it sounded similar to the basest forces of the universe. Unfortunately, humans had only recently discovered it and understood very little themselves. He had barely begun by the time Eleanore retreated to her room and closed herself inside.

He noticed this time when she went through (twelve thirty), and he also noted that she'd left her laptop on the island right in front of him. He was curious as to what 'research' she'd been reading when he had asked for a lesson. But then, he still didn't know her password, and he'd learned nothing to help him decode it. He left it alone, moving back to his chair in the main room for comfort.

His laptop died when he was halfway through an explanation on muons. Loki resisted cursing aloud, instead relocating to the desk in his room, where he plugged the charger in and resumed reading.

Dark matter wasn't quite what he'd hoped, Loki realized after four hours of searching. It was a piece of the puzzle that was universal energy transfer, nothing more. An _interesting_ puzzle piece to be sure. Perhaps he could use it as an analogy to explain to Bruce how magic permeated everything, including the caverns under the ground where Earth's scientists studied the dark particles.

He took a break at that point to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Charlie had slept on his bed while he was in his room, and now followed him to the sink, stretching up to claw Loki's pant leg, trilling happily. Loki took a moment after he was done drinking to pick the cat up and let it rumble away in his arms. All was dark, peaceful, and quiet. The street outside was even devoid of cars for the most part.

Eleanore's bed sighed, and her footsteps pattered to the door before Loki could leap back through to his room to pretend at slumber. Instead, he put the cat down and picked up the water glass just before she came fully through the main room.

"Hey Char— Loki?" She greeted the cat with a soft tone, but paused upon sighting Loki in the kitchen's shadows.

"Did I wake you?" Loki asked, trying to make this encounter seem normal. He was glad of the darkness, which hid his clothes from the previous day. If she saw them, she'd know he hadn't been sleeping.

"No, I have to go to the bathroom," Eleanore replied drowsily. "You okay?"

"Simply thirsty." Loki checked the time again on the main room's clock and found it was half past four. In a few hours, Eleanore would wake properly and stumble out again to start another day. Though she might rest longer, if the Captain was staying in New York. "I'll leave you to that, then."

"Okay." Eleanore nodded and headed past him into the bathroom.

Loki went into his bedroom and closed the door, leaving Charlie to scrabble underneath it. He waited until he heard Eleanore return to her room to bring his computer back to life.

He recalled what she'd said about people sending him messages through his email, so he navigated back to that page and found many waiting missives. They were organized by date of arrival, and the most recent ones were from Tony with detailed notes and video links from their metal studies. Bruce had sent one that contained the addresses of 'guided meditation'. Pepper Potts wrote a formal invitation, not only addressed to Loki but to all the Avengers, inviting them to use Stark Tower's guest quarters if they felt the inclination or need.

Loki frowned at the other email addresses listed at the top of the message. Each consisted of either initials or full names nat.rom, steve.rogers, dstark, bbanner, cbarton, eleanore.engman... i.am.ironman.

Well. At least everyone was clearly identifiable.

Loki had no idea why his address had 'eldrsen' at the end. He typed the word into the search engine along with 'definition' and found no results at all. He tried again with only the name, and found several websites of a different alphabet.

The most logical conclusion was that someone had assigned him a surname for identification in the endless mortal systems of information. Certainly, it was similar to surnames of Asgard. 'Odinson' and 'Eldrsen'…

Loki tried again, only using the first part of the word. 'Eldr' was Old Norse for 'fire' or 'flame'. Literally, someone had named him 'Loki, son of Fire.'

Was this a joke? Did someone here truly know his heritage? Loki's vision dimmed in confusion that quickly turned into anger. Whoever had done this, he'd find them and they would be sorry they'd ever been _born_. It was bad enough that those little 'scientists' treated him like a simpleton; Loki would make sure they and everyone else associated with SHIELD knew he was dangerous. More than dangerous. Though he was fettered to the side of heroes, he was more than comfortable with destruction. It was his fate, after all. Perhaps he would burn them alive for a bit of irony. Mortal or not, they would die very soon.

 _Calm yourself_ , he reprimanded his mind sternly. _You won_ _'t get anywhere acting rashly. Certainly, Eleanore and Steve will not give you vital information if you're acting like a murderous maniac_.

To that end, he gently shut the computer's lid and left it on the bare white desk to pace around the tiny room. It only took him five strides to reach each wall, but the motion was helpful. He began fiddling with the binding bracelet on his wrist semi-consciously, plotting how he could make a mortal death look like an accident. Perhaps he could simply horribly injure them, or find a way to be sent on a mission alongside them so they would seem to fall in the line of fire. If not that, he would monitor them, figure out their habits, and arrange a painful, probable 'accident' to occur as they went about their day.

First, he had to obtain the unfortunate human's identity. He planned the conversation first with Eleanore. She was brutally honest and much less experienced than Steve was, though they were both gullible. On second thought, Eleanore might interpret his intentions. In that case, Steve would be the best person to ask. But would Steve even know the answer? The Captain worked with some agents, but Eleanore largely took care of things pertaining to Loki's 'handling'. Discernment or not, she was the most productive one to talk to.

As though Loki's line of thinking had reached her through the walls, she padded into the main room with a yawn. Loki heard every step and decided asking while she was still half-asleep would guarantee him the best results. She'd even stayed in bed a little later than normal; it was close to eight o'clock when she usually woke up by six-thirty. A lapse in such a schedule could lead to advantageous grogginess.

He pulled new clothing on, opened his door, and plastered on a pleasant smile. "Good morning."

Eleanore stopped just before she reached the kitchen and looked him up and down. She was fully clothed in black leggings, a white shirt, and exercise shoes, and her eyes were alert. "You didn't sleep."

Loki barely faltered, his smile growing the barest bit in uncertainty. He decided not to lie, since she sounded so sure of her deduction. "You're ridiculously observant for the little rest you got. How can you tell?"

"I just… can, I guess." Eleanore squinted at him in the early light of dawn that filtered through the blinds. "Educated guess, based on the fact that you look really tired and you were awake when I got up at 4."

"I am perfectly well," Loki assured her, quickly abandoning his decision not to lie. He decided to divert her attention from his wellbeing to the matter he cared about. "Actually, I have a question for you."

Eleanore raised an eyebrow at him. She was remarkably awake. "Really?"

Perhaps Steve was a better bet. But Loki had always enjoyed a certain amount of risk. "Who assigned my Midgardian surname for my email address?"

"Oh." Eleanore shrugged and looked cautious again. "You can choose another one. I just typed that in as a placeholder."

" _You_ chose it?" Loki couldn't kill this mortal; he couldn't even maim her without repercussions. And more importantly… "Why did you name me the son of fire?" Did _she_ know? Was she jesting at his expense, knowing he could do nothing to retaliate?

Eleanore grinned, but her grin contained a hint of caution. "It's kind of a dumb reason. It was when you first got here, like two days after, and I was reviewing footage of you that SHIELD had while you were mind-controlled. I found your arrival through the Tesseract, and you were just _bam_ , there, all on fire, and everything was on fire, so I looked up the old Norse word for fire and found one without accent marks and made it seem like a real last name by adding the 'sen'."

Loki remembered, for the first time, the blue fire blistering through his veins as he was swept through time and space to land in SHIELD's facility in a flash. It was hazy, and he couldn't make the memory go much further, but he knew what she was referring to.

Relief washed over him in a giddy wave. Eleanore didn't _know_ ; of course she didn't. Thor was too stupid to explicitly tell anyone Loki's origins— he'd assume all creatures had a similar distaste of the Frost Giants, and that they would understand his veiled language— and Frigga would be more secretive. It was just a coincidence this little mortal had chosen such an ironically backward name for him. The more he thought about it, the more humorous it seemed.

"You can Google common last names," she was offering, "just don't choose something like 'Smith' or 'Jones'. It sounds suspicious."

Loki vented his relief through a hearty chuckle. "Poor luck for those who receive such surnames naturally."

"I went to high school with a girl named Anna Smith," Eleanore mused. She finally continued her journey into the kitchen and started the process of making coffee. "I wonder how she's doing. She wanted to be a doctor."

Loki reached his own mug down when Eleanore opened the cupboard, and quickly started steeping a bag of tea. He was glad Eleanore was off the subject of his sleeping habits. That, combined with the fact that no one knew of his heritage, put him in a rather jovial mood. He felt like talking, though not about himself. "What were your plans back then?"

"I wanted to work for SHIELD," Eleanore said, "I told you, that's why I went with Communications."

"Your mother mentioned your interest in being an animal healer, and then in taking photographs," Loki contradicted. He was gratified to find the confused half-frown flitting across Eleanore's face.

"Oh, back when I was like five years-old I wanted to be a vet." She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee, and her expression grew more serious in an instant. "But enough about me. We have a mission this morning."

Loki took in her careful attitude. "Something unpleasant, I presume."

"I think you'll find it more boring than unpleasant. Escorting a scientist from the West Coast to the Triskelion."

"Mm. Fury is testing the waters." Loki grabbed a piece of bread from the bag on the counter. "What time this morning?"

"In about forty minutes. If you want a shower, I can drive to the Triskelion myself. We're meeting in the hangar. Steve's already there. He had them shoot the PSAs early and rode back in one of Tony's jets."

Loki looked her over. She was all but ready for the day, and she could make it to the Triskelion in plenty of time in her tiny car if she rushed to gather her things and sped through the morning traffic. But she hadn't asked him for a transport at all, hadn't even hinted at it, which was interesting. "Are you averse to my method of travel?" He _had_ nearly made her sick a couple of times. Today he'd be gentler, if she went with him.

"Not averse, I just don't want to assume you'll take me everywhere," Eleanore explained with blunt honesty.

Loki chewed his bread and swallowed it. "Well, you haven't asked; I am offering." And he didn't mind taking her with him, if it saved time that would otherwise be spent riding around in those metal death traps. Come to think of it, she'd _never_ asked him to transport her. Was this out of consideration, like she said? If so, she'd inconvenienced herself a great deal. But then, she could read Loki's temperament as easily as a note, so she might also have backed off as a precaution, as she had the night before. Avoiding cornering him, whatever that meant. Or avoiding his anger. If he wanted a real answer, he'd have to ask, and he didn't care enough at the moment to get into a real discussion.

"I'll take you up on your offer. Thanks." She headed around him into the bathroom. "Just five—" The sound barrier cut off her promise of time.

Loki assumed five minutes was what she meant, so he grabbed a couple more pieces of plain bread from the sack on the counter and ate them quickly, not bothering about manners. The dragon wandered out from Eleanore's bedroom with a languorous yawn and stretched out on the main room's colorful rug.

Eleanore came out of the bathroom with her usual eye makeup in place and her hair coiled in a more creative braid pinned to the back of her head. "There you go," she offered, darting into her room again.

Loki took his time getting ready. Eleanore's forty minute estimate for him was fairly accurate when he wasn't in a rush. Now he had thirty-five, and he planned to make use of them. He liked long showers on days like this, when his thoughts weren't a maze of torture and danger. He decided to wear his gray suit with the crisp white shirt and the green patterned tie for today. Hopefully this 'boring' mission would stay boring; he was tired, and food only went so far to bolster his strength in lieu of sleep. He needed rest soon.

At least, he reflected as he scrubbed suds through his hair, on a SHIELD mission there was very little likelihood of running into any Starks. That alone would save his patience.

' _At least?'_ He paused, stilling completely as he ran through that thought again. ' _At least?!_ That was something Eleanore and Lydia both said regularly. And Steve. ' _At least its_ _' raining today; it's good to stay at home when it rains.' 'At least I'm alive seventy years later to help with what I can.' 'At least I have chemotherapy now, so I can stick around a while longer.'_

Mortals dealt in 'at leasts' because they were too weak to change their circumstances. _Loki_ dealt in absolutes; if he did not like something, he altered it by any means necessary. Recently, anyway. Once he'd overcome a few baseless moral compunctions.

But, moral compunctions aside, he had work to accomplish. His sidetracked thinking had eaten up probably five minutes, and his hair still contained a fair amount of suds. He rinsed it thoroughly and ran a tiny amount of Eleanore's conditioner through it as well— it smoothed his short curls into a natural shine as they dried. Then he scrubbed the pine-scented body wash into a lather and rinsed himself again, satisfied that he'd be presentable and aloof as ever when they reached the Triskelion. He dried quickly and rid the bathroom of steam, summoning the clothing onto his body, straightening his tie with a sigh.

The mission proved to be as boring as they'd expected. A quick— very quick, thanks to a small, new quinjet— jaunt to the other side of the continent where Steve, Eleanore, and Loki picked up a waiting scientist by the name of Dr. Harold Mullins. He was a dark-skinned, middle-aged man with a thick crop of curly hair and silver-rimmed square spectacles. He boarded the plane with no hassle at his university's science facility while Steve and Loki helped carry some boxes of equipment, and Eleanore settled into a seat near him and started talking about the man's home 'state' of Michigan. Their conversation lasted the rest of the flight while Steve manned the controls with newfound confidence and Loki stood behind the cockpit, alternating between listening to the mortals behind him and watching the cloud banks shoot past.

They reached the Triskelion hangar within an hour after leaving California and handed Dr. Mullins off to Cecil for initiation into the project. Eleanore watched him go with a parting wave and a smile.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her when she turned toward him. "Your mother seems to think you tire of people very quickly, but I don't see any truth to that."

"Oh, you mean I'm introverted?" The woman crossed her arms and nodded. "I am, and small talk like that wears me out a lot, but I don't hate it when the other person is nice. Like Dr. Mullins was."

Loki saw Fury approaching, then, out of the corner of his eye, so he abandoned the conversation and straightened into severe distance in an instant. The leader of SHIELD would not see any effect these mortals might or might not be having on him.

"Another mission, Sir?" Steve asked, ever the symbol of respect.

"Just another pickup," Fury said. "South Korea and back this time, though, about seven hours each way. Contact's name is Dr. Helen Cho. She wants to examine these microbots we're dealing with." He handed Steve a tablet. "She'll want to get into this information as soon as you pick her up. This might be the chance we've needed to understand these things."

Steve and Eleanore nodded seriously; Loki just stood there until Fury turned heel and walked away.

They boarded another quinjet, this one even smaller than the last. It was set with an autopilot, though Steve took a seat in the cockpit again anyway.

Loki settled into one of the more comfortable seats with cushions on either side of his head. Eleanore slumped into one across the small aisle as the plane took off. When they were in the air, she retrieved the tablet from Steve and sat back down, going over charts and symbols and a myriad of written data, most of which carried Bruce Banner's signature.

Loki watched her read for half an hour, debating whether or not she would take kindly to an interruption. Then he realized how foolish it was for him to worry about a mortals' opinion on the matter; she should be honored to speak with him as much as her ancestors had been. He was becoming entirely too engrossed in these petty little lives, thinking about politeness. He was a king

With that in mind, his etiquette fell away into soft condescension. "How much of that do you actually understand?"

Eleanore looked up at him, grinned, and raised an eyebrow. "Probably more than you would."

That was the most sarcastic answer she'd ever given him. Loki found himself smiling because the veiled insult was a direct response to his previous tone, and because even this reaction was tempered with Eleanore's friendly smile, which was looking more and more wary as she waited for his answer. "I finally see why your mother calls you a 'smart ass'."

Her grin remained in place. "You know, you can sleep on the flight there. We still have… what, five hours left? Steve and I won't bother you. I'll go to the cockpit and you can have the whole cabin."

The kindness was back again. Loki chafed under it in his current mood. A mortal shouldn't be noticing how weak he was and offering her meager help. She should be obeying _his_ every command.

He easily slipped into the icy, distant demeanor he'd once used constantly here. "Your concern is wasted on me." _And not welcome_ , he let his voice and expression add.

Eleanore just smiled. "I have plenty to spare." She rose and walked to the cockpit, taking the tablet with her. In a moment, Loki could hear her speaking to Steve about its contents.

He scoffed to himself, letting his head hit the seat as he contemplated the ceiling and felt the ineffectual nature of the gesture. Eleanore was gone; she couldn't see just what he thought of her overt maneuvering, leaving him with nothing to occupy himself with except sleep. He wondered if she'd even intended it, or if she really did want to talk to Steve about cells and structure and repair.

 _Or perhaps she sought to escape my ire_ , the vulnerable voice said with a hint of wistfulness.

Loki mentally growled and quashed that side of himself. Who _cared_ if she was 'hurt' by his words? She should be hurt, she should always remember just what sort of creature she harbored. It had been a mistake to allow himself to forget that in the first place. He was a monster, forced to do good in protecting these mortals. His impulses were still evil.

That same side, the one he wanted to absolutely obliterate for its weakness, brought forth the memory of the previous night, when Eleanore had 'gotten philosophical' and called him logical in the face of Asgard's derision. _She doesn_ _'t think I'm a monster_.

 _She doesn_ _'t_ know!Loki reminded the voice. _If I shed this false skin and appeared before her in all my hideousness, she_ _'d shrink away just like the rest. Steve would brandish his shield, Bruce would pull out his own monster to protect them from me… again._

He let his eyes trace the dark metal over his head, mentally trying to conjure Eleanore's frightened face as it had appeared once in the only Other nightmare he remembered. All he found was anger, not fear. And try as he might, he couldn't bring fear into focus on her face. He ran into the same problem when he tried to imagine Steve's revulsion. Even when he thought of Frigga, he couldn't see anything except her confusion upon Thor's triumphant return.

It didn't matter. He'd have no trouble remembering those reactions if they ever did find out his true identity. But he didn't plan on _ever_ wearing that skin again voluntarily, so perhaps his true nature would find another way to repel them.

The plane jostled slightly. Loki trained his hearing again, and heard Steve talking to Eleanore about the controls. Apparently he was to 'sleep' through a flying lesson. But just as quickly, Eleanore asked something about the past, and the Captain fell into reminiscing instead of instruction.

Four hours to go, and Loki was growing bored inside his own head. Dark thoughts clung to every subject his mind wandered to. He closed his eyes and tried to picture the clouds they were soaring through instead of the barren hunk of rock where the cloaked figure that currently shared his mind hailed from.

The next thing he knew, the plane was shaking, bumping, settling to the ground. The sunlight was gone completely; it was night on this side of the planet. Loki stood, feeling better-rested than he had in a long time, and stretched his neck as Eleanore and Steve came out of the cockpit and lowered the ramp.

"Are you hungry?" Eleanore asked him as Loki joined the couple and made them a group instead, venturing into the night together. They were about twenty feet from a large white building, outside of which stood a Vanir-looking woman and a few more boxes.

Loki shook his head. He was hungry, but still shrugged of her concern. "I don't need fuel as often as you do, apparently."

"Apparently," she agreed easily.

"We have some energy bars on the plane," Steve added just before they reached the woman. "Doctor Cho?" he confirmed, holding out his hand, "I'm Captain Rogers, and these are my teammates, Agents Loki and Engman. We're here to escort you to the Triskelion."

"Pleased to meet you, Captain," Dr. Cho said politely. She gestured to the boxes. "If you wouldn't mind giving me a hand, these should be useful for my research."

Steve didn't hesitate to pick up the largest of the boxes, which had handles. Loki forced himself to follow suit, even as Eleanore took a couple upon herself. The boxes Loki got were fairly heavy for Midgard; he wondered how much will power the mortal woman was using to carry hers. From the strain in her voice, a great deal.

They got Dr. Cho's belongings loaded into the plane and took off again for the United States. This time they continued East so they'd fly over the continent before reaching the capitol city again.

As before, Eleanore spoke to Dr. Cho for most of the return flight. This time, though, she mostly listened as the slightly older woman spoke of her work and hopes for its future with SHIELD's backing. This particular doctor was actually interested in healing people, unlike some of the others Loki had been forced to meet over the past few weeks. She wanted to be able to repair the mortal body quickly on a cellular level.

It sounded like what healing stones did, and what Eleanore could do. Loki wondered if the mutant mortal would mention her power to this passionate scientist. Though Cho would probably want to study her abilities, then, and that would lead to even more delays in their search for the magician.

He sat stoically silent, not caring whether he was perceived as 'friendly' or not by this doctor. He was not in the mood to please anyone, even after a few hours of nightmare-free sleep.

 _Nightmare free_ , he reflected as the map showed their plane passing over the coast of California. He'd slept for perhaps three hours without waking to horror. He'd slept on a _plane_. Perhaps that was the answer. Perhaps the Other had trouble reaching him if he was moving at such high speeds. That would be a breakthrough— he could rest when they traveled, which was happening more and more. While it wouldn't be enough to maintain his health, it would keep him further from the edge of insanity than he had been.

He pondered this until the plane landed again. Then they all departed to greet Agent Maria Hill, who escorted Dr. Cho away from them to a 'dormitory' section of the Triskelion. She told them all that they were free to go home and get some sleep as she left the hangar.

Loki transported back to the apartment without a word, and without Steve and Eleanore. Let them wonder why; let them question everything he did. He wouldn't let them get used to his help, though he'd still offer it when it was convenient. He did his best to ignore the insistently affectionate cat trilling around his ankles, and devoured the rest of the leftover chicken quickly. There would be nothing else for Eleanore to eat when she got here, but she could find a way to survive. He glared contemptuously around the dark main room as he ate. These trinkets were less comforting, lacking the warm lamplight. He could see how foolish everything was; how idiotic the mortals were for decorating every living space they had with such telling relics. They sought a claim, individuality, comfort for their short, meaningless lives.

The food was gone. Loki was still hungry, but he wasn't going to stick around and make something more for himself. Eleanore would be back soon, and she'd probably drag Steve over since he'd been absent the past few days. It wouldn't do for her to let her disarming control over the Captain go lax. That moronic man clung to her with the foolishness of youth, his pain clearly written in every pathetic gesture of friendship.

Loki nudged Charlie away, where he wound around his ankles, and shut himself inside the prison cell of a room alone. _This_ , at least, was no lie. It was the only place in Midgard the mortals were telling him to claim, and it was…

It was decorated with gifts.

 _They care_ , that horridly gentle voice insisted.

 _Shut up_ , Loki told it. He flipped on the cool white overhead light and surveyed the room in all its glory. Pondered whether breaking the gifts would be worth the cleanup and the inevitable curiosity Eleanore would show. She'd notice, somehow, right away, and she'd use his reaction to… to all this… to whatever he was feeling as a way to read him further. She'd mention the absence of the bedspread, the lamps, the curtains, the rug, the chair, whatever Loki decided to be rid of, and she'd accuse him of lying to himself again. Insufferable wench.

The white light was beginning to turn pink around the edges of his vision. Loki realized it too late, as the red continued to creep over everything. It turned the green coverlet to brown, it gilded the lamps in blood.

 _No!_ Loki clawed against it. He pushed a threw everything he had into stopping the descending madness because whatever he was or was not, he wouldn't be governed by that foul creature any longer. He would _not_.

The effect pushed back against his efforts, but Loki felt himself winning in the end. He wasn't sure how long it took, his focus all drawn inward, but eventually he stood in the silent room where everything was its correct color again.

Eleanore still wasn't back, strangely enough. The clock reported it had been nearly an hour since he'd arrived at the apartment. Loki pulled his phone from where he'd stored it and found several text messages, only one from her.

" _Steve and I are getting a (really) late supper. Let me know if you want us to bring you anything. There_ _'s still chicken in the fridge. :)_ "

Loki knew enough about Midgardian communication at this point to recognize the inane 'smile' at the end of the message. He backed out of the page and looked at the others instead of responding.

Bruce reported nothing new about the metals they were studying, but Darren sent a picture of a palladium ingot that glowed with an ingrained light spell. Tony sent a vague invitation to return to the Tower for more 'heavy metal fun'. Then there was one from Lydia.

" _Elle said you_ _'re going to South Korea. Take pictures if you see anything interesting— that's one of the few places I haven't been. Hope you have a good trip. -L_ "

This missive tugged the corners of his mouth upward. He typed a reply. " _You haven_ _'t been a great many places; the Nine hold more interesting—_ " Loki stopped himself. What was he doing? Already falling back into this quagmire of companionship, that's what. He gazed around the room at the gifts before deleting the message and tossing the phone on the dresser.

It was dark and cool tonight. Another storm was rumbling toward the city, though this one was not nearly as strong as the one from the night before. Loki opened the window that did not face the wind and let the breeze wash through the room until it smelled like rain and asphalt and trees. He set a spell on the screen to prevent unruly droplets from making their way in, and flopped onto the bed sideways so his feet still touched the floor. He noticed for the first time that the mattress was a great deal softer and more comfortable than it had been three— or was it four? — nights ago. Lydia must have added something to it when she was here.

That kindness was grating, more difficult to resist than the Other's control was. Loki had no defenses against the purely innocent intentions of these mortals in relation to himself. He couldn't even use that innocence right now for his own gain. SHIELD was watching, and so was Heimdall, and… and he didn't want to exploit the Engman women. That understanding hit him with an accompanying feeling of exposure. He knew he probably _could_ get the mortals to do as he pleased; he could play the Avengers like a well-tuned pipe if he put his mind to it, but he didn't want to.

 _I_ _'m tired_ , he thought, feeling as ancient as a dying star. _Games are games, I suppose. Perhaps I took my enjoyment from the element of revenge in the past._ Certainly, most of his pranks and dealings were based on slights. Only Thor had born the innocent tricks of their youth. As he grew up, Loki learned to use that trickery to defend himself and his not-brother, and now… and now he had no cause for defense. And that was weakening him.

' _Know myself,'_ he thought, recalling the books still stacked on the little table. _Any suggestions for that, Eleanore? Or are you simply raised into that confidence here?_ But that couldn't be it. Other humans were far less… less. Cecil Salfield was cautious and quiet. Bruce had mentioned that Tony made things clear to him about the Hulk being a guardian. Her twin cousins Alan and Zephaniah were not nearly as centered. Darren was, but his was a kind of brash arrogance that spoke more of a lack of opposition and understanding than of acceptance for others and himself. Steve knew right from wrong instinctively, but he hardly cared about himself enough to examine his own personality. Natasha Romanov was an enigma altogether; she could change who she was as the need arose. Clint Barton was the closest example Loki could find.

 _What makes them similar?_ Well, they were both reckless enough. Brave, always. They accepted insults to themselves, but Loki knew that if someone hurt their families, that person would be killed with no remorse. They were intelligent as humans went. More important than that, they were adaptable. Watchful, quietly observant, insightful.

Loki closed his eyes as another breeze shifted the new curtains to whisper. His head was beginning to hurt from a lack of sleep and a surplus of tension. He tried to breathe and relax. In and out. In through his nose and out through his mouth. Slow and steady. He felt his heart rate decrease. The bed was snug. Loki let his muscles sink into the mattress. Snug and inviting.

The next thing he knew, he was landing on the floor so hard that his teeth jarred against each other. Thunder boomed furiously and lightning flashed, illuminating the bedroom in sharp relief.

Loki's face was wet. Actually, most of him was. He was sweating profusely. His heart was racing. His lungs could not draw in air without shaking more out in a convulsive explosion. Everything was terrible, and he was… sad. So sad. Desolated to the point of ruin. All he could do was wrap his arms around himself and let out a pained groan.

 _Please, please make it stop. Help me!_ But his mouth did not form words, and soon enough it did not even make a real sound. Loki's throat closed, and he lowered his forehead to the floor.

 _Eleanore?_ he tried desperately, hoping a thought or errant feeling would summon her. He could hear nothing over his own ragged sobs and the roar of the storm. _Please, please, please, please._ It was crushing him, this anguish. Loki felt like he was going to die. It was worse than when he'd discovered his true heritage. Worse than confirming it with the Ice Casket and hearing Odin admit that he hadn't wanted a son, he'd wanted a puppet. Worse than his mother's disappointment as she understood the kind of monster she'd housed for centuries. It was all his pain combined. It was a clawing, aching emptiness that threatened to pull Loki into a bleak chasm.

But no one came. Loki knew this wasn't a dream because no one could hear him, just like in real life. He was alone, and he had to do something to save himself.

He _had_ to stop this.

He fought with all his strength and finally noticed his magic still covering the window, sending raindrops scattering back into the night. With a monumental effort, Loki reached for the magic on the window pane with one hand. He inched across the floor, finding purchase on the new rug, until he was directly beneath the sliding glass. Then he cut the spell and let the rain pour inside, drenching him with cold water.

It worked. The water was real, tangible. It chased away the threat of the Other. It loosened the choke hold on Loki's throat. He lay there gasping for breath, staring up at the sky, while lightning flashed and wind drove more rain inside.

 _What_ was _that?_ Loki demanded of himself. _What weakness was that? What did he find, that parasite? Something not even you know to defend against. He stabbed you right in the heart, and you let him._

Loki stayed still, even as he berated himself for cowardice. The rain kept coming in, and the floor was getting soaked, but he did not care. He watched the clouds and felt his deepest self begging not to leave, to stay where it was safe.

 _Enough_ , he decided. _I am not weak. I am Loki of Asgard, and I will not be cowed by mere_ emotion

With that, he sat up and rose to his feet. He closed the window, shutting out the storm and the wind and the rain, and used a bedraggled towel he'd found in the closet to mop up the water. With that done, Loki changed his clothes without magic and threw his wet things into the laundry basket in the closet.

He wanted to flee the room, but Loki forced himself to look in the mirror. A hollow-eyed specter greeted him, straight out of a funeral. Either a mourner or a corpse could have matched his blank expression. Loki arranged his face again, but the look _would_ still linger around his eyes.

Loki decided he'd faced enough of himself for the moment. He wanted to find out why the apartment was so quiet and lifeless. Why Eleanore had not noticed his distress and come running to help drag him back to reality.

The main room was dark as night, but the clock on the wall read half past seven. Could that really be right? Loki summoned his phone and yes, there was the same time reflected in plain numbers. He'd slept through the night, no matter whether he felt rested or not.

Eleanore was usually awake by now. Loki sidled over to her bedroom door, which was open a crack, and heard nothing from inside. Charlie trilled from the couch. Loki pushed the door open and found an empty room with an unmade bed that smelled like Eleanore's berry soap and lilac perfume.

He backed out and tried the kitchen. She'd left notes there before; she'd even set up a 'white board' for messages a couple days ago. Loki had never used it, but Eleanore would put small notifications up all the time. ' _Text me any groceries you want._ Or, _"Out with Mom, back by 7._ '

Today was no different. " _Steve called me into the Triskelion (leaving at 6:15). Scientist something— he wasn_ _'t clear. No danger. Oatmeal on shelf or bagels in fridge. - Eleanore_ "

' _Scientist something…'_ Loki pondered that. Scientists could mean that the lab rats (as Tony called them) had had a breakthrough on something. But if that was the case, Tony would have been called in, not Eleanore. Perhaps they needed a mediator; she could do that. Or maybe Tiryaki had attacked a scientist and Eleanore was needed to save their life.

His first impulse was to transport there right away to find out what was going on. But just as quickly, Loki remembered what he looked like in the mirror. Another glance in the bathroom with the light on showed even more problems: dark circles highlighted by pale skin. He looked like… like he had when he'd first arrived on Earth through the Tesseract, minus the blue eyes. Much thinner than normal. Dehydrated.

Loki washed his face with warm water to try to burn some color into his cheeks. It didn't work. He decided food, hot food, might be a good solution. Eleanore employed it often enough. So, he heated up some oatmeal and added cinnamon and sugar. Ate it while staring out at the storm.

It was a bad one. The clouds were turning gray, but Loki attributed that to the insistence of the rising sun, not to any cessation of the downpour. Lightning flashed crackles of thunder, and waves of rain poured down the pavement in rhythmic patterns. It was mesmerizing. So mesmerizing that Loki found himself drifting back to his awakening. His throat closed and he nearly choked on the last bite of his breakfast.

 _Enough_ , he told himself again. He turned away from the window and switched on the lamp and the kitchen lights. Anything to distance himself from the dreary outdoors. Eleanore said she liked rain, and Loki did not mind a warm summer shower himself, but this was something else.

His eyes fell on the books, left where he'd placed them on the little table between the chairs. _Getting to_ _'know myself' through childish stories? Better than dwelling in my mind_. He picked up the first one and sat down in his chair. Charlie jumped into his lap, a warm assurance of something good in the world. Loki opened the book.

He soon found himself drawn into the story. The writing was very different from any on Asgard. It was direct and humorous. Loki thought of Eleanore or Clint when Harry made a joke. His imagination supplied the characters with faces to go along with their strange names. He followed the train to Hogwarts, where he soon learned about the nonsense words Eleanore had been so enthusiastic about.

He immediately identified with Slytherin as soon as the hat began to sing. Green, achievement, goals. Loki could not deny the parallel. Harry chose Gryffindor (or, more accurately, chose _not_ to be in Slytherin), and Loki nearly put the book down. Of _course_ the hero of this tale was in the 'brave' house. Obviously, those with ambition were not to be trusted; Loki was proof enough of that. The nasty little blond boy went into Slytherin without hesitation, where the snakes dwelt.

But Loki forced himself to keep reading, since his mind was angry at the book and not at himself for being a coward. He calmed somewhat when he noticed that the little girl, Hermione, should have been put into Ravenclaw. He chuckled when he remembered that 'Ron' was the name of Eleanore's dead grandfather. He tracked Harry's childish learning and accomplishments and found himself more and more engaged.

Finally, Loki came to the Mirror of Erised. Eleanore wanted one of these, but for what? So Loki could figure out what he truly desired? What if he looked into the mirror and saw himself razing Midgard again? Or killing someone? No, Loki would stay far away from that mirror. Some ignorance was bliss, indeed.

Familiar steps clomped up the stairs when he was nearly to the end of the first book. Loki noted that it was only ten o'clock, so he hadn't missed much yet. He wanted to see what this Professor Quirrell had to hide.

But the lock turned and Eleanore walked in with a scowl. No 'hey,' no smile. At least not until she saw that Loki was reading her book. Then she lit up a bit. "Is it good?"

Loki held up the volume so she could see how close to the end he was. "I imagine Quirrell is in league with He Who Shall Not Be Named."

"No spoilers. I'm glad you like it. I'll let you finish it, since you're almost done." She walked into her bedroom, discarding her black and white coat with a shiver.

Loki did finish the book in peace. He'd guessed Voldemort would show up again to keep things interesting. Loki did not understand the strange man's motivations, but he could respect the lengths he'd gone to obtain the Sorcerer's Stone. How frustrating, to be defeated by such a young boy.

Eleanore came back into the main room as Loki set the book aside. He noticed her scowl still in place, though it was more thoughtful now. She switched from mysterious frustration to concern when she really looked Loki over. "Are you okay?" Her feet carried her across the room, and she held out a silver-lit hand to his cheek.

Loki wanted nothing more than to sink into her palm and let her power banish the leftover tightness in his chest. But to do that would be weak, so he gently brushed her hand away and forced a smile. "I am perfectly fine. I never sleep well during a storm, that's all."

Eleanore frowned at him. "You were pretty peaceful when I got home, and when I woke up to leave."

"I slept on and off," Loki assured her. "I will accompany you back to the Triskelion if you desire. What problem were the scientists facing so early in the morning?"

The scowl came back full-force. Eleanore drew in a breath through her nose and set her jaw. "Nothing, I'm just… frustrated." She shook her head, and the anger retreated. Sat on the floor in front of Loki's chair and gathered Charlie into her lap when he jumped down. "But I came home to see how you're doing, anyway."

"Well enough, as I said," Loki answered easily. "What was the source of your frustration?"

"The kids don't like me," Eleanore blurted out, the anger returning full-force. She hunched over the cat, but waved one hand in the air to describe her words. "I mean it's like, okay, I don't have a Ph. D, but you don't have to be a Ph. Dick about it. They don't listen to me at _all_ , even when _Darren_ is listening to me. I'll say something and they'll ignore me, and then Steve or Bruce or someone repeats it and they listen. Like this morning, I was positing that those stupid microbots could also be used to track whatever they've infected so maybe that's how Tiryaki knew what hospital Steve was in, and— and it's not like I'm quiet, either. They look at me when I talk, but it's like this _look_ , you know? Like they're listening to a child talk about driving a car. I don't know how to… to earn their respect. And I shouldn't even have to earn it, but apparently I do."

Loki sat still through this diatribe of displeasure, trying not to grin. It wasn't humorous, but he wanted to laugh anyway because this was _so_ familiar. Centuries and eons of this exact feeling, of being snubbed in favor of someone else simply because of peoples' opinions. Of being spoken over, of watching his advice being proved right and no one admitting it. So when Eleanore ended her short rant, out of breath and indignant, he liked her better than ever before.

He also had some idea what to reply. "They're the idiots for not listening." It was what he'd wanted to hear from someone, from anyone.

Eleanore heaved a heavy sigh. "Thanks. But the problem is, they're smart idiots who we need to catch this magician."

"Mm. Perhaps if you fly into the lab with your dragon they'll begin to take more notice."

That made her smile. "He's not _my_ dragon," she answered automatically. "And I don't want to do the reveal quite yet. I shouldn't complain so much, anyway. Oh! Here." She shot off the floor and darted into her bedroom, returning with a paper bag, which she gave to Loki. "They had that today again."

'That' turned out to be baklava, warm and fresh. The flaky pastry broke down the last of Loki's distance and whatever bitterness he'd been harboring since yesterday seemed frivolous now.

Etiquette took over, and he accepted the gift with thanks, offering Eleanore a piece, which she took. They ate in companionable silence for a few moments.

"What called you in this morning?" Loki asked when the baklava was half gone.

"Dr. Cho wanted some files on Steve, and he wanted me there to make sure everything got explained correctly."

"So someone listens to you," Loki pointed out.

Eleanore really smiled. "Yeah, I think the 40's gave him a healthy respect for abrupt brunettes."

"A healthy respect for anyone who knows his past healings," Loki amended.

"Oh, I have medical power of attorney over him," Eleanore explained. "I have a form for you to sign for that, too." She rose to get it.

"I will handle my own medicine, thank you," Loki decided before she took a step.

"You still get to make the choices," she said, sitting down again. "It's if you're unconscious, then I have the right to tell the doctor to operate or not, or what meds you can have. Steve and Pepper are both mine. I have it for my mom, too. It can mean the difference between life and death."

Loki imagined himself unconscious, dying somehow, and Eleanore fighting with a medical doctor who wouldn't listen to her, just like the mortal children. "If I am ever unconscious here, I want you to heal me. Don't let your doctors cut me open."

"Do you want to sign the form, then?"

He nodded. "I will, after I read over it."

"You can add Steve too, if you want, in case I'm ever not there. Or someone else, like Pepper, in case Steve and I aren't around."

Loki waited until she'd retrieved the paper— a folder of papers, really— from her room to answer. "If either or both of you are dead, then I will be as well. Or have you forgotten?"

"I said 'not around,' not 'dead,'" Eleanore corrected him. "If we get separated or something, or if we're all three knocked out."

"Anything that would render me comatose would kill you," Loki informed her coolly, enjoying this moment of light argument.

Eleanore rolled her eyes at him, but she was grinning. "Okay, tough guy. Just sign here, and write up a plan for your funeral so we know what to do there."

Loki frowned as he read over the document. He knew she was joking with that last statement. However, he hadn't thought about what sort of funeral he might have. It would depend, he supposed, whether or not he succeeded in protecting these mortals with his sacrifice. If he did, he might be burned on a barge and sent off as a prince. If he did not, he would probably be left here to rot in whatever receptacle the mortals used to entomb their dead. "If you are alive to witness it, I would like to be burned completely. I want no trace left. Scatter the ashes in a hidden place, and make sure nothing comes back."

Eleanore shifted, placing her chin in her hand and watching Loki sign the document under the assumed name she'd given him. "You really put the 'fun' in 'funeral.'"

Loki looked up and found her grinning to herself. "I'd hear you be as cheerful about your death."

"We've already decided I'm dying in the Thanos thing," she reminded him with a smile that bordered on teasing.

"Mm," Loki concurred, brushing away the disturbing image. For some reason he could picture Eleanore dead with no trouble, while he couldn't imagine her frightened. "In that case, there probably won't be a funeral. No one will be left to mourn."

"Delightful," Eleanore deadpanned, taking the form back. "Okay, do you want to head in to the Triskelion, then? Or do you want to have a day off? It's fine if you do, I think we'll get home around five today."

Loki stood. "And leave those mortal scientists at your mercy? I think not." He held out his hand and she took it.

"Can you take us to the lobby? I'll drop off this stuff off there," she requested.

Loki supposed he should be pleased that she was still comfortable enough to jest and argue and ask such a thing from him after his coldness the day before. He obliged, transporting them both to one of the lesser-used hallways just off the main entrance of SHIELD.

"You want to wait while I head up to the lab?" Eleanore asked. "This'll probably take… ten minutes?"

"I have all day," Loki said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to the doorway. He watched her walk away, and kept her in his sight even as his eyes roved around the large, bustling room. Eleanore stood out among the mortals because of her colorful clothing— the yellow long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans with pink shoes and a white clip barely containing her curls. Most of SHIELD's agents and visitors wore black, gray, white suits, the women in heels, the men in loafers. Loki could blend in with them more easily as he was, dressed in the dark gray dress shirt with black slacks and a black tie, though he'd left his suit jacket hanging in his closet in the apartment. Some agents watched Eleanore strangely until a clear light of recognition dawned, but mostly their eyes slid over her in silent identification before continuing through the room.

There was a fair amount of activity at this time of day, so near lunch. Smells wafted up from the cafeteria, making Loki thankful for the baklava and the oatmeal from that morning. He watched mortals hurrying on their way, engrossed in their destination far more than their journey. Most of them barely gave him a glance even if they passed very near him. A few met his eyes and quickly looked away. He wondered what they saw, or if they were just showing the 'politeness' many did in this impersonal city.

The sun appeared from behind the clouds, shining through the glass roof of the lobby with such sudden brightness that most of the humans squinted and commented on it. Loki found Eleanore again, right where he'd last placed her, talking through something at the information desk and signing even more forms. He also found a familiar face winding its way through the crowd.

"Hey," Steve greeted him with that easy grin.

"Good morning," Loki responded. "Have your medical tests been completed, then?"

Steve looked confused for the barest instant, but then his eyes tracked Loki's gaze over to Eleanore. "Oh, Elle came in to talk to Dr. Cho about the microbot mixture. I thought she'd have more to say about them than I would."

"You _were_ a bit distracted during that mission," Loki drawled. Something was nagging his mind now, something every-so-slightly off about the room. He let Steve watch over Eleanore and swept his gaze over the thickening crowd.

There was Agent Hill, who at first seemed to be the explanation for Loki's disquiet: someone known but not familiar drawing close. But then he found the real source: the short brunette following the agent, her eyes locked on him from twenty feet away.

"That's… you're…" Jane Foster muttered, quickening her steps and changing direction, heading straight for Loki and Steve.

Loki drew himself up. This day had just gotten _much_ more interesting. "I'm Loki of Asgard." He greeted her with a winning smile and the slightest of bows, nothing but princely in front of Thor's woman and the now-gaping Captain and agent who were trying to work the situation out. "You may have heard of me."

 ** _A/N: Enough of a cliffhanger for you? ;)_**

 ** _Sorry again for the long delay! I started my first job about a month ago, and I_** ** _'ve spent the last few weeks traveling around to train for it. I have been working on this story a lot, though, for future chapters. I'll try to make the next one shorter, so that I get it published more quickly. I'm very impatient to get some places and do some things in here. Although I have a busy weekend coming up, so who knows what will actually happen?_**

 ** _Anyway, thank you for sticking with this story; it_** ** _'s a pleasure to write and to hear your thoughts on it._**

 **Vendetta -** ** _Thanks! I love Steve so much as a character, and writing him is always torture because he second-guesses himself so much, especially in modern times, until he_** ** _'s sure about something. Sorry for the long wait, but I do hope you enjoy the longer chapter. I'll try to get better about posting more quickly as well._**

 **PrimeReader -** ** _Thanks for the review! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!_**

 **Lily Noir -** ** _Thanks! I_** ** _'m glad you like longer chapters— that seems to be where my brain keeps going as I write._**

 **Everyone Else -** ** _Thanks again for reading! Please leave any thoughts you have in the reviews; they_** ** _'re always appreciated!_**

 **Disclaimer:** ** _I don_** ** _'t own Harry Potter or the Avengers or anything except my own original characters who appear in this work. Any references are merely meant to pay tribute to other peoples' great work._**


	29. Chapter 29: S Extremes

Steve saw the slap coming, but he was too shocked to stop it in time. Instead, he watched it happen with dawning horror, and then watched the calm, dangerous smile spread languorously across Loki's face.

Steve tried not to focus on that smile- there was plenty of other action going on every second- but he couldn't help remembering how long it had been since he'd seen the dark-haired man look this threatening. At least a full week, maybe more. And that tone of voice he'd used to introduce himself was equally distant.

But soon enough, the unfamiliar-yet-recognizable Dr. Jane Foster was pointing a finger in Loki's face and yelling. Her words echoed through the crowded room. "That was for New York!"

Loki just slowly turned his head to gaze down at her. He could have held still under the hit; Steve knew from experience how much that jaw could hurt a hand. But he had moved, turned to the side so he faced away from Steve, and so Dr. Foster hadn't broken any bones.

That was a good sign, right? Steve glanced up for Elle and found her staring from the reception desk halfway across the lobby, an unreadable expression (although he was pretty sure shock was a factor) frozen on her face. He wished she'd been right here, where he was, or on Loki's other side when Jane Foster had made her hasty approach. Elle would have noticed the mood, probably would have stopped the slap one way or another. And if she was here right now, she'd be reacting already. Steve kept looking from Loki to her, trying to break her out of whatever spell had her locked in place.

But she wasn't alone in the staring. Every agent in the room was still, suspended like sculptures. Some had their hands on their guns, some held files in white-knuckled fingers. Everyone was looking at Loki.

And Loki clearly noticed. Without taking his eyes from Dr. Foster, he straightened his shoulders and his attitude morphed from the almost-relaxed posture he'd had before when he'd been talking to Steve to the world-domination-capable, callous man who'd stolen an eye in Stuttgart. The unsettling smile grew until it pretty much looked like he was baring his teeth. "You should have Thor do your hitting for you. Although I'm sure you've had trouble reaching him since he left you behind."

This was the Loki Steve had tried to avoid all this time; the one who could bite with words alone. He'd sniffed out this woman's insecurities in a matter of seconds, and now he was bent on revenge.

And it was working. Jane Foster drew her other hand back in preparation for another slap. Her anger was growing far past the point of reason.

Steve knew what to do, finally. He stepped forward and caught her by the wrist in a gentle but firm grip. He maneuvered until he was partially in front of Loki, shielding him without a shield, and made sure Dr. Foster's focus shifted to him. Finally, he used what Elle had once called his 'leader' voice- the one that made people sit up and take notice of whatever he happened to say. "Don't hit my teammates, Dr. Foster."

Elle was finally coming over with abrupt strides, her hands clenched at her sides. She reached them and placed herself in front of Loki on his other side, so that Foster wouldn't have any access to him at all, even to glare.

But Elle left the scientist, who was looking confused, to Steve and instead rounded on Agent Hill. "Maria. What the _hell_?!"

Hill crossed her arms and appraised the group impassively. "Maybe you want to move this discussion somewhere more private before we get into the accusations."

Steve frowned, noting that some of the agents were starting to move along, albeit slowly. He caught Elle's eye and nodded his assent, letting go of Dr. Foster and keeping himself between her and Loki.

Hill led them down the memorial atrium hallway to a secluded, tiny conference room with six seats around a small black table. "I suppose we can hash this out in here," she said dryly, betraying no more tension than normal.

Elle and Steve glanced at Loki at the same time. Steve found the same mischievous attitude in those blue-green eyes, no sign of uncontrollable anger or embarrassment. Maybe Elle could see more below the surface, but if she did she kept it to herself.

A thought occurred, then. Steve switched his attention to Agent Hill, narrowing his eyes. "Is this a test?"

Loki snorted a humorless laugh. "Of course it's a test, Captain. One I'm afraid Dr. Foster has failed."

"It's _not_ a test," Hill asserted, showing more of a reaction than ever before in this interaction. "You three were supposed to be getting started on lab work, having meetings. We obviously weren't going to introduce such a volatile…" she trailed off, giving both Loki and Foster a meaningful glance, "... situation in such a crowded place."

Steve felt his chest growing tighter. "But you _were_ going to introduce it."

Foster spoke up, then. "You dragged me back here to work with _him_?" She pointed at Loki, although she was about ten feet away now so at least she wasn't in his face.

"Oh, the disgust is mutual," Loki assured her with a nasty grin.

Elle, who'd glared indiscriminately from Loki's side, chimed in with a surprising amount of bite. "How'd you get her here? Last I heard she was hiding at her mom's house, crying over that blond dumbass."

Steve tried not to act shocked at the venom in those words. Elle wasn't pulling any punches, and neither was Loki. Loki, Steve could understand. Elle was supposed to be better at this, though. But she _was_ protective; he vaguely remembered seeing her blow up at the young agent who'd sent him to Turkey alone. He guessed she was nice until she wasn't, kind of like Peggy.

At any rate, Steve supposed, it was up to him to de-escalate the situation now, whether he was in the mood or not. He suppressed a sigh and shoved his anger down, saving it for something more useful. "What's the goal of bringing Dr. Foster here, Agent Hill?"

Agent Hill went back to being impassive. "We needed someone who's seen magic firsthand, who's categorically measured it with custom-made instruments. The Foster Theory? Could branch into finding this magician of yours."

 _Of ours_? Steve thought. But he couldn't argue because Elle didn't give him a chance.

"Informing us would have been a good idea, _Maria_ ," she spat. "And you still haven't answered my question- did you kidnap Foster and bring her here?"

Dr. Foster took a step toward Elle, which was a step toward Loki as well. "They got me here by telling me I'd be helping track down a monster." She turned to Hill in disbelief. "You're saying he's not it?"

Steve looked at Loki as she spoke, and he saw that 'monster' comment hit home. The demigod set his jaw and withdrew even further until he gave the impression of looking down on everyone in the room. Instead of replying to Foster, though, he let his gaze slide over to Hill. "You don't need her for this hunt. She'll be useless; just something else that gets in the way like those children you've assigned us already."

Steve didn't miss the 'us' in the middle of the rant. It gave him hope that Loki knew they were a team. Hope that they could get through _this_ as a team.

Foster began sputtering a protest to the insults, but Loki raised his voice ever-so-slightly and spoke over her. "I am far more reliable- _Darren Stark_ is more reliable at hunting down this magician than any of your pitiful mortal machines. You'll deflect the search this way, and more of your people will die."

"Why do _you_ care?" Dr. Foster demanded. "You killed plenty of humans already. And you!" she pointed at Steve, now, actually getting in his face this time, "You're supposed to help save the world, not the guy trying to end the world!"

Steve felt a flash of anger, but it came from Eleanore to his right. She spoke up again. "You talk about Loki being dangerous, but he's not the one who just walked up and slapped someone, is he? And he's not pointing fingers in Captain America's face! So why don't you stop making assumptions, _Jane_ , and go back to being someone else's pain in the ass while we get some work done?"

She was practically vibrating with rage, and Steve saw the moment she realized how far gone she was. She looked up at him with a locked jaw. "We should go."

Steve nodded. That was the best solution to all this. They'd only keep yelling at each other while Dr. Foster and Loki were in the same room. Everyone needed a chance to cool down. He waited while Loki left the room first without a parting glance, and while Elle sent a fiery glare over her shoulder.

When they were gone, Steve took a second to speak to Agent Hill, ignoring the fuming scientist. "We're making progress," he pointed out. "Things like this… Just think about it before you try setting us back."

Hill scowled. "There are tests, and then there are mistakes. Your team needs to be strong enough to make it through both."

Steve grit his teeth and forced a breath through his nose, letting time pass as he felt that glare emerge that froze lesser people in their tracks. "We are."

He left on that note, before Foster or Hill could make another comment.

Elle and Loki were in the hall, both leaning against the wall like a couple of kids who'd been sent out of the classroom for misbehaving. Steve paused in front of them and crossed his arms. "Loki, you alright?"

Loki smirked at him, aloof as the night they'd brought him back to Earth. "Dr. Foster hurt my pride less than my face, and she hurt my face not at all."

That wasn't what Steve had been asking, but it was enough of an answer for now. He turned his attention to Elle, who was glowering more than he'd ever seen her. He couldn't blame her for getting angry; this was a shitty situation, and who knew what kind of damage this had done to Loki? Damage they'd have to carefully find, and that they had no idea how to really fix. She'd been working so hard on this relationship, and Steve had barely been around these past few days to help. He'd noticed Loki's progress, though. And now that was probably gone.

He raised an eyebrow at the mutant woman, trying to figure out what would help _her_ in this situation. "You need a break?"

"A break from what?" she asked sullenly.

Steve remembered then that this was a nineteen year-old kid he was dealing with. One who'd been stuck with two very stressful charges for almost a month, and who hadn't complained about it or taken time off even once. Elle didn't get normal working hours with the Avengers, no nights off or weekends. They went with her to her _farm_ for crying out loud. The longest she'd gone without either Loki or Steve was once when she'd gone to dinner with her father, and that had stressed her out more than usual. And she looked… tired. Underneath the stress and anger, she was worn out. No wonder she'd lost her temper so easily today.

She wouldn't appreciate it if he suggested she take time off now. Loki clearly needed her, and Steve probably did too, to be honest. But they needed her to be healthy and present, and she was neither of those things. She needed some time to herself, but Steve couldn't make it obvious that he was offering or she'd think it was pity and refuse. He'd have to wait until an opportunity presented itself to get Elle to leave them for a while.

It was probably a good idea to keep her around while Loki might be riled up, anyway.

"Nothing," he finally answered. "I just wondered if either of you want lunch before the lab work. We have about half an hour."

Eleanore and Loki looked at each other and shrugged. "We ate baklava at home," Elle supplied.

Steve hid a grin at their synchronization. "No time for a real meal, then?"

Loki spoke this time. "I don't think anything from that hovel below-ground could rationally be called a 'real meal'."

So, Steve was outnumbered. That was fine; he'd had a late breakfast after he got back from New York. He sized both of them up, trying to figure out if they could handle the insistently inquisitive scientists now or not. "You want to head upstairs, then?"

Loki, who'd been staring at the wall to Steve's right, uncrossed his arms and straightened until he was looking down on them again. "Anything is better than listening to Thor's woman berate Agent Hill."

Too late, Steve remembered that the other man could hear through human-soundproofed walls with ease. He mentally winced and held out his arm. "Come on, let's not be here when they come back out."

Elle and Loki followed his suggestion, thankfully, walking back toward the lobby as quickly as Steve hurried them. He ushered them into an elevator and breathed a sigh of relief; no more Dr. Foster for today.

"What was she saying?" Elle asked into the quiet, coming out of her dour shell a bit.

"A great deal," Loki hedged. Then he looked down at Elle and smirked. "She didn't seem to recognize you, so her abuse was mainly confined to Steve and I."

Elle scowled again. "I can make _sure_ she recognizes me next time."

Steve was having trouble believing the opposite temperaments his team was displaying. Where was Elle's calm in the face of peril? Where was Loki's eager sarcasm and smoldering anger? "We're not having a 'next time'," he asserted, trying to get some control over the situation. "At least not anytime soon." He gave Elle a stern look, which felt strange itself, trying to silently tell her to get it together.

She just _looked_ back, one eyebrow raised, until the elevator door opened on their floor and all three of them disembarked.

They entered the lab to a cacophony of questions from the 'children', all directed at Loki. Loki dodged each scientist, somehow, and cordoned himself behind a desk where Dr. Salfield was working on a sensor. They began discussing palladium and other metals almost immediately, and the other scientists died down and disbanded, ignoring Steve and Eleanore entirely.

That was fine; Steve just stuck close to Elle's side as she walked over to a desk and started researching artifacts again on a spare computer. Steve pulled a chair over instead of starting on his own machine. Tried to figure out how to approach this weirdly-angry Eleanore he'd only ever seen a hint of when he was half-dead from blood loss and poisoning.

"I'm not apologizing," Elle informed him after a couple of seconds of scrolling through the computer.

Steve almost sighed in relief. "I won't ask you to. Foster was out of line."

She scoffed, a derisory, bitter expression crossing her face as her eyes slid to the floor. "Understatement of the week."

"Maybe," Steve said carefully. He needed to talk about Eleanore's behavior too, though. It was pretty unacceptable for her to lash out like that in a professional setting. Even if she was defending someone. Loki could take care of himself, after all, with the quick words and the magic and the smile that looked like he could destroy you without a thought. But he'd never _ever_ had a talk like this with Elle, the calming influence on the team. What if her anger was redirected to him? He wasn't sure how he'd go about proving his authority to someone who'd never shown him anything but respect. And it was a terrible situation, no doubt about it. So she was in the right. And a fight with her would divide the team more than, say, Tony Stark.

But didn't Steve owe her the benefit of the doubt? Elle was reasonable. She'd admitted when she was wrong before. Really, the line Steve had to walk was making her aware of the blunder while making sure she didn't make herself feel too guilty about it. He decided honesty was best with her, even if it meant a fight in the short-term. "But you overreacted, too. And Hill was right. We might need her help."

Elle met his gaze, surprised verging on shocked at the statement. Then she grinned, and it was like the past twenty minutes had never even happened. "You've never gotten mad at me before."

Steve shook his head, reeling from the weirdness of the day. "I'm not mad now. In fact, I think you were right to defend Loki in front of Hill and Foster. Just not so… angrily."

Elle quirked her mouth sideways and shrugged at him. "I really can't promise not to do that again. But I'll work on it."

That was all Steve could ask for. "Good. Thanks," he added, because that could have gone so much worse. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Elle promised. And smiled, and Steve felt like he was basking in sunlight and humor. "And not your version of 'fine,' either. Well, maybe a little bit of it."

Steve looked her over and understood what she meant. "You're tired." He was partially responsible for that. He really hadn't been around as much as he should have been, these past few days. Yesterday's flights made up the longest amount of time he'd spent with his team that week. He was supposed to be half of the Loki support system, and he hadn't been doing his part.

"No," Elle corrected him. "I meant, yes, but ignore that. It's more than tired." She turned slightly to whisper at him. "Jane Foster is _here_. Do you know where she was before?"

Steve raised one shoulder and let it drop. "New Mexico?"

"Norway. SHIELD shipped her there as soon as Dr. Selvig was taken from the Tesseract facility. Phil Coulson did it, actually, because he knew Thor would be worried about Loki seeking her out. That's why I called her someone else's pain in the ass. And now SHIELD has her right here in D.C., so actually she's our pain now."

Steve eyed the clouds scuttling past outside the window. The brief patch of sunlight from right before this whole problem was gone, replaced by scattered showers again. "And Thor won't like that she's here."

"And he's the kind to come and confront us about it." _Confront_ Loki _about it_ , her expression said.

Steve considered their options. They could leave the Triskelion to avoid the potential confrontation. They could stay and keep a constant eye on the sky and on Loki until they'd fulfilled their goal for the day (whatever that was). If they left, they'd have to come up with an excuse for SHIELD. If they stayed and Thor showed up, they would only have tentative control over half a situation- one third of the situation if Steve counted Jane Foster as a player, which he probably should. Thor could attack or provoke Loki easily, and there was basically nothing Steve could do to stop him. And he had no idea what that surly version of Eleanore would do in response to something like that.

"We'll go home at three," Steve decided aloud. "Earlier, if we can. Alright? And I'll stick with you, just in case." He'd run interference between his team and any SHIELD officials who might also try to test them.

Elle considered that, looking out the window. Finally, she sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

Since honesty had worked out so well before, Steve decided to try it again. "When we get out of here, I think you should take the rest of the day off."

The wrinkle-nosed squint Elle gave him was pretty funny. She looked at him like he'd presented her with a rotten vegetable, not a break. "Why?"

"You never get time away from us. When it was just you and me, you'd have your apartment, but now…"

"I don't mind Loki at _all_ ," she cut in when Steve trailed off. "Also, he can probably hear us. And Steve, pot calling the kettle black here. You never take time off either."

"I go for runs by myself," Steve insisted. "And I have my own apartment." _Which I_ _'m barely in because I also basically live at your place._

"I won't get angry again… today. Unless Thor shows up, then no promises."

"It's not punishment," Steve clarified. "Elle, it's not about this morning. Alright? It's about the team, and the team needs to stay healthy. You're part of the team, you need some time off." If he was talking to someone else, like Clint or Darren, he'd have added, 'That's an order.' But Elle had already handled one confrontation from him today; he knew another one wouldn't help. Instead, he had to convince her with logic and reassurance. He glanced over at Loki, who'd moved further across the room and was currently examining a bunch of tiny electrical components spread out on a large white table. "I'll stay around, alright? We'll be at home."

She crossed her arms and gave yet another _look_ , this one scrutinizing and dubious. "Yeah, because you two get along so well." But the next instant, she shrugged and turned back to her desk. "Fine. I'll go to the meadow with Jet and fly around if the weather allows it. We need to do that anyway."

Steve accepted that. 'Time off' meant about the same thing to Elle as it did to him: time wasted when things could have been accomplished. She was doing the same thing he'd do (if he didn't fight with whoever was making him take a break in the first place). He resolved to make sure they could leave long before three; Loki probably needed some time back at home as much as Elle did. This morning, when she'd initially come into the lab, Elle had mentioned giving their demigod charge the entire day off, saying he had been tired enough to sleep through her getting ready and leaving the apartment. Now Steve wished he'd listened and kept her here instead of sending her back home to check on Loki and bring him in for more consultation. How differently would a meeting with Foster have gone without that first mistake?

But it was useless to dwell on the past. Steve gave himself a mental shake and focused on the here and now. He noticed more writing than usual on Elle's notes on their collaborative document. Bolded, underlined, highlighted words jumped out at him. ' _Religion, centers, maps, collaborative, communication hub_. He pulled his chair closer, which she didn't seem to mind, and pointed at the screen. "Can you tell me about this?"

That sent Elle straight into information mode. She started talking about different relics, and how she'd had trouble finding specific information about them until she'd started running one of SHIELD's hacking programs at the same time as her searches. This had led… nowhere. Until she noticed that the relics weren't nearly as revered as the sites they were taken from.

From there, Elle had started research into archaeological sites, and she'd started having Jarvis map exact locations to try to find connections between sites that were near each other. So far, she was only on Europe, specifically focusing on Norse history to try to find more things like the Scepter and the Tesseract. She hoped to move on to Africa, where most people "... don't even think about the cultural significance of the local myths because white historians discounted their _importance_ , Steve, even though everything started in Africa anyway…"

So Steve absorbed her lessons on sociology and history and mythology and how it was all connected. Elle talked for a long time; something that usually didn't happen because she a) had nothing to add, or b) they got interrupted in the middle of a conversation. He liked listening to her, all excited about her work. It was good to know she hadn't been bored following Loki around all this time. And even though Steve already knew that Elle was smart, he couldn't help but be impressed by how much she'd accomplished on her own here, with no backup.

"Can we get a team on this?" he asked when she paused long enough for him to speak.

"Mmm… maybe one or two additions? But I don't want to crowd things in here."

Steve looked at the five empty desks on their side of the room alone. "Two or three extra hands wouldn't hurt anything." He glanced up and noted three scientists just standing around, talking about something to do with sports. They could spend their work hours working, and they should know how to help with this research if they followed Eleanore's lead. "Assign some of your leads to this team, see where we go."

"Okay. I'll do that now." Elle started typing some key instructions into a new document, outlining what she had already covered and the ideas she'd had for continuing the search. She also added parameters for searches that might be helpful to the scientists, and ideas for centering their research around gathering places where ancient civilizations might have traveled to instead of portable relics. That only took her about five minutes, and then she sent it to their small team.

"What's a BCC?" Steve asked, noting his name in that bar just before Elle pressed send. Loki's address was there as well, and Maria Hill's.

"It's like… a notification. Showing you what I sent, but not requiring you to respond to it. CC stands for 'Carbon Copy,' and BCC is 'Blind Carbon Copy'. I used BCC because I don't like to look like I'm reporting to you and Loki."

Steve nodded, stood, and wheeled his chair back to his own desk so he could get started using this new information. He didn't mind the informality of the Avengers; in fact, he would encourage it. The team could make a lot of the high-level decisions on their own just fine without him. Sometimes that made Steve a figurehead, but sometimes it let him focus on other things as well.

Like how the trio of scientists stopped talking about sports to check their phones when the email notification came through. They all three glanced over at Eleanore and started whispering quickly.

"I'll go talk to her," Dr. John Jacobsen, volunteered after a minute. He peeled away and started over to lean his long arms on Elle's desk. "Agent Engman?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Elle asked with a friendly smile. Not the smile she used around people like Steve and Loki and Darren, but pleasant enough for someone she didn't know well. She also leaned back in her seat as Dr. Jacobsen got into the unconscious bubble of personal space she liked to keep around herself.

"It's just this email we got," Dr. Jacobsen began in a soft voice Steve had never heard him use. "See, if you're going to have this kind of research, you probably want to ask for specialists in the anthropology and history fields."

"I know-" Elle began.

"- Because, see," the taller man continued over her, increasing his volume slightly, "SHIELD doesn't hire all scientists to do _all_ research jobs. Stuff like this falls into a different division than, like, engineering or chemistry. Because it's totally different, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," Elle said, her smile now more of a mask.

"Okay, because this email you sent…" Dr. Jacobsen showed Elle the email on his phone. "It's asking us to look through this data on locations and artifacts, and that's not our division. But if you get someone here from SHIELD's other research divisions, like anthropology, or maybe even archaeology, then they could take a look at it. Okay?" He grinned down at Elle like he was finishing up a lesson with a child.

Elle gave him a disbelieving version of the _look_. "So what you're saying is that you _can_ _'t_ understand this line of inquiry well enough to conduct viable research."

Dr. Jacobsen's grin faded. "Well, no, not exactly. It's just… this isn't my job."

Eleanore raised the one eyebrow even further. "What is your job, exactly?"

"To help find this… but by doing _scientific_ research _._ " Dr. Jacobsen scowled.

"This is scientific research. It's necessary to helping us find the magician, too. And I _know_ you were accepted for a position at the Triskelion because of your flexibility when it comes to intelligence. And I approved you for this team because I thought you could give us help in any area. So what exactly is your problem with this?"

Steve saw the lanky redhead's hands ball into fists on the desk. His ire rose. He wanted to step in and make this kid stop taking such a condescending tone with Eleanore, but he knew that if he approached, then everyone would see him as an authority figure instead of her. Exactly what she'd been trying to avoid in the email. Exactly what she had just not-so-subtly hinted against when mentioning that she'd been the one to approve Dr. Jacobsen for the team. So he pretended not to watch the interaction, glimpsing carefully out of his peripheral vision. With the rest of his time, he powered up his computer and signed in. And he checked in on Loki visually. The other man seemed like he was ignoring the discussion across the room, but he could definitely hear it.

"I don't have a _problem_ ," Dr. Jacobsen grumbled.

"Good." Elle did a frosty version of a grin. "So you can go ahead and get started on this now. I'll let you know about any updates."

Dr. Jacobsen glared at her, but he brandished his phone, turned around, and walked away to an unoccupied side of the room. He hunched over his device and began tapping away at the screen with his thumbs.

Steve checked the shared document. He was gratified to find the other two doctors already claiming regions of Europe to research. They must have listened to the over-explanation and the confident response and decided they'd rather not tangle with Eleanore. However, Dr. Jacobsen didn't show up on the list of users. He figured the kid was reporting Elle for ordering him around, not actually doing the work he was assigned.

That would get Dr. Jacobsen in trouble, most likely, but it could get Eleanore reprimanded, too. Steve's pointer was hovering over her name for a private chat when a window popped up on its own.

" _I_ _'m technically equal to you on the chain of command in the lab; I checked with Maria when we started this project, and Darren and I approved the kids for this research team. So if John's complaining about me to someone, they'll redirect him to either you or me._ "

Steve let himself grin at that. Elle _should_ be an equal authority in the lab; she'd proven that time and again in the past few weeks. Steve and Loki both deferred to her for simpler explanations of lofty ideas when Darren, Tony, or Bruce moved too quickly. And Darren mostly explained his ideas to her, anyway, because the young man wasn't comfortable talking to many other people, especially large groups.

Steve responded. " _Let me know if you need backup._ " Then he thought about their discussion of her reactions and added, " _I thought you handled that well._ "

Elle sent him a yellow 'emoticon' that animated into a smile. " _I channeled my inner Peggy-voice_. _Going to talk to Loki about his goals for today._ " She logged off and walked across the lab to where Dr. Salfield and Loki were talking.

Steve went back to perusing the document. Quite a bit had been added since he'd last checked on it a few days prior. Short, bulleted notes outlined each search site. Color-coded titles with a legend at the bottom of each page explained whether a lead worth following, not researched enough yet, or a total bust. The other doctors were adding sections under these with their new sources and findings as well.

He chose one that had no one looking into it yet: points very close to the Middle East where intersecting religions and wars had built up and decimated so many holy sites. And while he started looking, he listened to Elle talking to Loki across the room.

"Hey," she greeted the demigod familiarly. "So what time-"

Steve's attention was pulled away by a beep from his computer. Darren's helmet popped up in an image, which was then replaced by a chat. " _Is Elle in a fight?_ "

Steve replied, " _No, why?_ "

" _One of the kids just texted me and complained she was dragging him away from research?_ "

Steve tried not to glare at the 'kid' responsible for this. " _I know what you_ _'re talking about. Elle isn't pulling anyone away from anything important._ "

The icon appeared that meant Darren was typing a long message. Steve waited, but he didn't have to wait long. " _Ok, thanks. I figured she wasn_ _'t. I told him to do whatever she says._ " Then Darren's image turned a lighter shade of gray, indicating he'd logged off.

"... the tests will take at least a day," Dr. Cecil Salfield was saying when Steve tuned back in. "I can run those, email you the results?"

"As long as you're off the clock by six," Eleanore clarified.

"And as long as you keep the light test for tomorrow," Loki added.

"Okay, I can work with that." Cecil nodded gravely, taking both orders seriously. "Oh, Miss Engman, what's the time frame on this file you sent?"

"No real time frame. If you'd look it over today, maybe get started where you can while the longer tests are running? We can't do a lot of sensing at these sites without the sensors. Well, I can't, anyway," she amended when Loki gave her am ' _Oh, really?_ ' look. "But it would be nice to have some ideas for places to look once the tech is done."

"Okay, I can work on it. Thanks." Cecil sat down at the computer nearest him and started tapping away at the keys as Elle and Loki walked away from him.

Steve logged off the computer completely and stood as his team approached. "So, you two done for the day?"

"At your behest," Loki replied.

"It looks like the clouds are breaking up, so I'll take off from the roof here," Elle informed them. "We'll fly back here when we're done. I want to check in on that one," she gestured at Salfield over her shoulder, "to make sure he gets off work on time. He's been pulling way too many all-nighters lately."

"Ah yes, and only you are allowed such a liberty," Loki teased.

 _Teased_.

Steve could barely believe his ears. The same guy who kicked him across the gym on a regular basis, who could summon a storm of anger on a whim, who'd been slapped about an hour and a half beforehand… was teasing Eleanore. Who he hated, supposedly. Although he hadn't acted truly hateful in a while, as far as Steve knew.

But Elle was grinning up at them both and walking out the nearby hall door. "Yep, exactly. You have fun today. See you tonight."

The door closed before Steve could reply. He turned to Loki instead. "That baklava still tiding you over?"

"I'm not eating this place's food," Loki informed him steadily.

Steve grinned. "Let's go out. I have my car. I bet Jarvis could find us someplace we'd both like."

Loki acquiesced with the barest shrug, following Steve out into the hall and into the elevator. He said nothing on the way to the parking garage or as they got into the car.

Steve chose to drive, instead of having Jarvis navigate them out of the building. "So what are you hungry for?"

"Out of all the foods I've tried on this realm?" Loki drawled caustically.

"You've had quite a bit," Steve pointed out. "I'll go traditional if you don't decide."

"What traditions will you be following?"

"America's. Burger and fries. And I'm sure they'll have salads if you don't see anything else you like," Steve added as an afterthought. "You have a burger yet?"

"I have been deprived that honor."

Jarvis pulled up a nearby cafe without them having to ask. Steve maneuvered down the side streets until they pulled up to a nice-looking storefront with umbrella-covered tables outside. A waiter eagerly seated them at an indoor booth in the second-floor loft area, which looked out on the sidewalk below. They ordered drinks, water for both of them, and then started looking over the extensive menu.

Steve decided on the classic burger and fries right away, but he kept a hold on his menu to have an excuse to watch Loki from the corner of his eye. He wished he'd gotten a signal jammer from Darren or Tony last night when he was still in New York. Although, by eight o'clock at night, Darren had been winding down in front of a Japanese cartoon (in actual Japanese, without subtitles) and Tony was too drunk to see straight. Bruce had retreated to his room then, so Steve had done the same. And this morning he'd shot those PSAs at five and booked it to D.C. as quickly as he could, long before either of the Starks were up and about.

So, he couldn't really talk to Loki about what had just happened. But they could still speak about other things.

"So," Steve began, "what have you been up to these last few days?"

Loki eyed him and folded his menu closed. "Eleanore texts you every time I sneeze. I hardly think your question is necessary."

"You sneeze?" Steve asked, mostly joking. He'd never seen or heard Loki sneeze before. Thor either, but he wouldn't be pointing that out. And Elle really didn't update him, unless there was something significant.

"No more than… than usual," Loki answered with a slight hesitation at the end as his eyes skimmed over the menu again. He also looked more uncomfortable for a moment. More open.

Steve decided to switch the subject to something safer. "Anything look good?"

"What _is_ a hamburger?" Loki asked cautiously.

Steve explained what a hamburger was, why he liked steak fries, what additional condiments Loki could order. He made sure to dwell on the difference between 'rare, medium-rare, medium-well, and well done' when the other man seemed confused at the terminology. He also read off the different types of buns, since this cafe had three different options, and he described the side-order options other than fries, dwelling on the vegetable options.

Loki listened to all that with an interested expression, then ordered a house salad with vinaigrette when the waiter came back around. He smirked as soon as the apron-clad man's back was turned.

Steve tried not to roll his eyes at the clear enjoyment Loki took from flaunting just how little he cared for Steve's advice. The fact that the other man was enjoying something was a good sign in itself.

SHIELD was probably listening in, but Steve decided to start the conversation, keeping it light enough that the listeners wouldn't get any new information. "So. You seem… pretty calm after being slapped across the face."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "As I said, that pitiful woman couldn't hurt me if she tried."

Steve nodded, skimming over the 'pitiful woman' part of the statement. "I know. _I_ can barely knock you down. But you're… if you want to…" he couldn't find the right way to say this. Elle was so much better- she just blurted things out as they occurred, and she was so honest about it that it was tough to find her offensive.

"I don't want to 'talk about it'." Loki answered his struggling, unspoken question.

"Okay," Steve agreed easily. Then he thought of something important. "But I'm here if you ever do. About anything, not just this."

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, you're here every three days or so, just long enough to lead Eleanore and I on a mission. Truly, you are a paragon of understanding leadership."

Steve felt his face slackening at the accusation. Did Loki want him around? Did Loki even _care_ who was with him? Other than Elle and Bruce, the demigod seemed indifferent to everyone. But he _did_ seem to enjoy knocking Steve across the sparring ring. They'd done that the past few nights, before Steve had stayed in New York.

Loki's eyes crinkled at the corners and he started chuckling. "You panic so easily."

Steve frowned and sat back. They were on familiar ground again. Unfortunately, this ground was only familiar because Steve never knew where he stood. Sometimes he was 'Steven,' and Loki acted like he was the most annoying person on this planet. Sometimes he was 'Captain," which was the worst- Loki hated the Captain. But, rarely, he was 'Steve'- either directly or indirectly, when Loki was casual and open and clearly jovial. These moods could switch without warning in the blink of an eye. Elle was good at noticing the changes, but Steve often stumbled over them.

But now, he would take what he could get. "Can't say I hear that a lot."

"Well. You mostly speak with people who worship you. Don't raise your hackles. I should have said they 'adore' you."

Steve leaned his elbows on the table- he _had_ 'raised his hackles' at the mention of people worshipping him, and there was no call for it. Loki liked to press buttons; it was part of the 'jovial' mood. "I don't know about that. Elle would be the one to ask."

Loki's smile deepened even further. "I wouldn't count her as an unbiased observer."

Their food arrived then. Steve dug into his burger with gusto. It was good, and he really had been hungry. The Tower had surprisingly little in the way of real food or ingredients to _make_ real food. Steve had pulled a browning banana off the fruit bowl in the kitchen and then enjoyed the bagel layout that the PSA set offered at 5AM. Loki was more refined and probably less hungry, sitting up straight and eating like a prince must at royal feasts.

Steve searched for another topic of conversation as a backup to this comfortable silence between them. He'd never been very good at small-talk, especially not with people who he couldn't read very well. He decided asking about Loki's food would serve if he needed an opener, and then planned to ask about the other man's morning alone in the apartment if that petered out.

But Loki spoke before there was a real necessity, looking out the window to watch passers-by. "You spent the beginning of this day instructing this nation's youth, mm?"

Steve swallowed his next-to-last bite of burger and nodded. "Yeah, they recorded me." And what a nightmare that had nearly been. Steve wouldn't have known half the words for all the types of infections one could get from sex, and the current terms for consent and health were so different from the "Venereal Disease" talks the soldiers got during the War. Thankfully, Elle had had the screenwriter send her a copy of the script a few days before, and she'd sent Steve an annotated copy last night so he could be sure of what he was saying, the pronunciations, the real meanings behind the words, and suggestions for things to add if he felt like it.

This had been followed by another email with links, the subject of which was " _This will make you angry, but here you go._ " The links had taken Steve to data on teen pregnancy, the rate of reported rape cases in high school and college, and the STI rate by state. The rape links had been the worst- Elle had included comments about how experts estimated only one in five women reported their assaults for fear of the personal repercussions. It _had_ made Steve angry, in a useless kind of way. But then Elle had included more hopeful links at the end- resources for survivors to use on each campus where they were far more likely to get the help and support they needed than if they went to the police or university alone. " _So there_ _'s some hope, at least,_ " she'd concluded, " _Just want you to be aware of the whole situation._ "

And now they were faced with another situation. Jane Foster was still at SHIELD, and they had no idea how long she'd be there or when she'd show up to deal out more useless aggression. They couldn't go back today, not without Eleanore. But Steve hadn't been in charge of Loki's entertainment before. He recalled that last double date he'd gone on with Bucky. That dame had _not_ been amused.

But what to do with an impassive alien? They could always spar, Steve supposed, but that took three hours at the most since he tried to save some strength for emergencies. What did Elle do with Loki when Steve wasn't around? They visited Lydia together sometimes. They worked, and… that was all Steve knew. He had no idea what kinds of things Loki would like to do on a cloudy afternoon in D.C. Who knew if his anger would resurface, anyway?

He couldn't tell anything from the man's blank expression as he speared the last bite of his salad, still looking out the window. The demigod must have noticed Steve's scrutiny, because he put the fork down, swallowed, and sat back. "Well?"

Steve decided to do the 'Elle' thing and just spit his apprehension out. "You alright, really?"

Loki nodded curtly. "I hardly have a choice, do I?"

"Of course you have a choice," Steve protested. "It's not like I'll force you to be 'fine'. Elle wouldn't either."

"Mm, she did offer me the day to myself," Loki acknowledged, looking like he wished he'd have taken it. Then he shook his head and clarified, "No, I meant I have no choice but to maintain my composure in such a public place. Especially if you want SHIELD to continue to allow my presence on this planet."

Steve nodded along with the logical (detached, cynical, resigned) explanation. He fully approved of _this_ Loki, the one who accepted things that were out of their control instead of fighting them. But there was still one potential problem. "What if Dr. Foster ends up working with us? Do you want me to veto that?"

"I don't _want_ your protection," Loki informed him coldly.

"Well, you have it," Steve rebutted calmly. He let the simple statement hang in the air, daring Loki to fight him on it. If that was what it took to get him to talk, so be it.

But Loki just regarded him behind another inscrutable mask. He sat there, still as a statue, for almost a minute while cars and people meandered past. Finally, he drew a breath and spoke. "Well, you can do nothing about it at the moment. And I tire of this place."

Steve paid their check at the counter and followed Loki out the door to the car.

This time, instead of getting into the vehicle, the other man stopped. "I presume you think you need to watch me closely until Eleanore comes back."

Steve shrugged. He _did_ think that, but… Loki was acting so calm. "What's your alternative?"

"I am going to return to the apartment for that 'day off' your medic suggested. I do not care what you do."

It didn't take much thought for Steve to agree to that. "Sure. I'm going over to the SHIELD home, then. Let me know if you need anything?"

Loki raised an eyebrow and disappeared without a trace.

Steve could easily imagine the sarcastic comment Loki had left unspoken. " _As if I would ever need anything from_ you _._ _"_ But it wasn't offensive anymore; a lot of things Loki said were pure bluster, just to get a reaction. Sometimes they were even funny.

At any rate, now Steve was free to visit Peggy on his own. He hadn't been there in a few days. He settled into the car, hoping she would be having a 'good' day. He'd like to talk to her about this new team of his and their polar opposite reactions.

He was proud of Loki, Steve supposed, now that he was traveling down busy streets with time to think on his own. Proud of Loki, and proud of Eleanore as well, but in a different way. Loki had taken control of himself more than Steve had known he could. Elle had defended him. It was all… good. Just confusing.

He pulled into home's parking lot and disembarked from the car, still considering.

Marcy was at the front desk again. She greeted him with regret. "Captain, I'm sorry, but she had… an episode this afternoon."

Steve's heart froze up, all thoughts of Elle and Loki vacating his mind. Was Peggy alive? Was she in pain? "Episode?"

"Just a flare up," Marcy assured him. "She's resting comfortably, but we don't expect her to wake up until after supper."

"Oh." Panic deflated into disappointment. But he plastered a polite smile in place. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll come back tomorrow, then."

"Well," Marcy said, "actually, Lydia asked me to let her know if you or Elle or Loki showed up today. I think she wants to ask about this morning."

 _So everyone_ _'s already heard about that._ Because this place was owned and controlled by SHIELD, word would have traveled quickly. Steve knew from an offhand comment from Elle that Marcy had once been a field agent, leader of a small team herself for about fifteen years. She must still have countless connections with the active agents.

Trying to minimize the severity of the rumors, Steve just nodded and kept his smile in place. "Great. I'll head through to say hi."

Marcy let him go without any pressing questions. She probably had all the details already in some inconspicuous phone call or email or text.

Steve tried to ignore the other stares he got from the other retired agents as he made his way into the large communal spaces for dining and entertainment. He didn't know the other residents well enough yet for them to approach him like they did Eleanore. Thankfully. So, he took long strides and avoided eye contact until he was standing in front of Lydia's open door.

"Come in, Steve," she called from the kitchen area.

Steve obeyed and found her in front of the little countertop, filling two mugs with water. Marcy must have informed her he was coming.

"Want some tea?" Lydia offered brightly.

Steve considered that. He rarely spoke with Elle's mother at length, often greeting and saying goodbye to her in passing as he went to and from Peggy's room. But that didn't mean he didn't like the woman or her company. "Sure."

Lydia had him sit in the chair Elle usually used. "The other one is Loki's seat, and I'm never sure when he'll show up."

"That bother you?" Steve asked in response to the wry humor and resignation in her tone.

"Oh, no," Lydia assured him. "No, I'm a mom. Kids come and go, you know? Whether they're mine or someone else's."

"Guess I never thought about it." And Steve hadn't. He only considered children as a far-distant possibility back in the War. Now, that possibility was pretty much gone.

"Well, you're young," Lydia conceded, setting the mug of tea (plain, black, English-smelling) in his hands. "But how have _you_ been? Everyone on the team behaving? I heard about that thing this morning; is everyone alright?"

'That thing' was a subtle way to describe the Jane Foster Encounter, as Elle put it. "Everyone seems to be fine," Steve hedged. "You'd probably be a better judge of that for some, though."

"Loki? I'm sure you can read him just fine."

Steve shook his head. "Actually, I was thinking of Elle. I've never seen her get that angry."

"Well, Loki got slapped," Lydia said, as though that were the most obvious explanation.

Steve accepted it. The explanation lined up with his thoughts about Elle being protective, anyway. And more importantly... "So what can I do to help? If something like this happens again?"

Lydia shrugged. "Honestly, I'd just tell you not to get in her way. It'll just stress her out more. She has a temper; you've seen that now. Sooner it flares up, sooner it's over."

"I'll take everything with a grain of salt," Steve promised with a grin.

"Oh no, she means what she says when she's mad." Lydia took a sip of her tea and grinned back. "She might regret making you feel bad, but usually what Elle says is what she's been thinking for a while. No, Loki's the one who regrets a lot of his words when he loses control."

Steve raised his eyebrows, wondering what Lydia would think of Elle's venomous words to Dr. Foster. He wasn't sure how accurate Lydia's assessment was, though. "Loki didn't get angry at all this morning. Not that I could tell, anyway."

"He didn't need to. Elle did that for him."

That _was_ true. It made a weird sort of sense, along with Loki's apparent amusement (bordering on delight) at Eleanore's attitude. By the time she'd really calmed down, the situation had been far behind and below them and Loki had moved on to metals and Dr. Salfield and research.

"I guess that's handy," Steve conceded, finally drinking his own tea. "I gave Elle the rest of the day to herself. Sort of."

"Yeah, she said she was going to the meadow alone." Lydia nodded approval. "That's good. I've been worried she's pushing herself too hard for the two of you. You need to watch for that, too."

"I will," Steve promised. He liked Lydia's no-nonsense way of talking when it came to her daughter. He also liked her daughter. "She's helped us a lot. Me, anyway." Steve knew he'd have been lost in this time without Elle. Left to his own devices as he had been that first week. He wondered if he'd even have known about Peggy by now, and what he'd have done after the Battle for New York. And he wouldn't be living in his apartment. Knowing himself, Steve knew he'd have found some hole in the wall in a worse part of town to save on rent while he gathered himself for… for each day. Alone. No 'Welcome home!' when he got back from some mission, no offers of coffee, no long afternoons spent in the sunny, safe place Elle made of her home. No one coming to check on him after nightmares. No one tying him to the Starks with an easy, invisible thread of secondhand communication. He'd be even more lost when it came to scientific jargon, and he still probably wouldn't know what a single-serve coffee pot was or how to use the Internet well or where to find good groceries.

Elle made a huge difference in his life, but she'd done it so naturally that Steve seldom noticed it until moments like this. And now that he knew, he wanted to

Lydia's face softened into a real smile that made her look like Elle. "You're a nice boy, Steve. And not just because you're letting me boss you around."

"I appreciate the advice," Steve replied honestly. "Elle handles herself so well, I never know if something's wrong. It's good to get some feedback."

"The nice thing about her is that she'll tell you if something is really wrong. And she'll be specific, and she'll make sure you know whether or not she wants help. You're doing fine. I never knew most of her problems past when she was around four years old, you know. She didn't show me her healing powers until two months after she'd discovered them. And then she only told me because I noticed the empath thing."

Steve frowned. Elle had been… seven years-old when she'd discovered that. "Why didn't she tell you?"

Lydia's fond expression hardened. "You haven't been awake long enough to notice, but the media goes through cycles sometimes. When there's not enough juicy stories, they debate other things, like mutant right. One time was right when she found out. I never asked, but I bet she saw that, and decided to keep it all a secret." And then the older woman's face grew bitter.

Steve imagined a bunch of reporters, like the ones gathered around the base of Tony's Tower, shoving microphones in Elle's face and asking why she thought she had the right to live as a mutant. He'd be bitter, too, if it was his kid facing that. He was bitter _now_. "I'll try to help with that."

Lydia switched gears as quickly as Elle had before in the lab, beaming at him. "I know you will. You're a nice boy, Steve."

Steve took that for the compliment it was. "Thank you, ma'am."

Lydia yawned. "And, not to tell you to leave, but I've been awake since one this morning. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold a coherent conversation."

Steve stood. "Thanks for having me. And for the tea." It had been well over an hour since he'd arrived. He felt a lot more confident in his knowledge of Eleanore now. Hopefully that would hold.

"Stay safe," Lydia said as he left.

Steve drove home as leisurely as the late-afternoon traffic would allow. Mist coalesced on the windshield, blown on a sixty-seven degree breeze. Elle was probably home already as well, sent back by the inclement weather.

He decided not to drop in uninvited as he parked the car in its designated space right beside his covered motorcycle. Elle should be home now, driven away from the meadow by the inclement weather. She could handle Loki well enough alone, and they probably didn't need him sitting on the couch like a silent reminder of work they weren't getting done.

So, Steve quietly made his way up the stairs and into his own apartment. Loki had had the right idea earlier; it was the perfect kind of day to sit at home and read. He picked up a book on computer-building Darren had given him. He needed to keep pushing himself to get caught up with this time and its people. A day (or part of an afternoon) off was a good place to start.

He read for an hour, half-listening for any noises from across the hall. He'd never yet met his next-door neighbor, in what Elle called the 'fancy studio' apartment on his side of the building. She'd said the young man, Denver Westerfield, who lived there mostly worked nights at a club, when he wasn't taking classes at another local university. A psychology major, he was using his job as a bartender to study the entertainment industry. He used to have a cat, but it had died of old-age about seven months before. Sometimes his mother would visit, and the hall smelled like cleaning chemicals for a few days afterward. Other than that, he was a conveniently inconspicuous neighbor. Steve never heard his door slam, and he hardly noticed his steps coming or going.

For having never met the guy, Steve knew a lot about him.

But his reading was disturbed by real rain hitting the window behind his head. The wind had picked up. A storm was coming; Steve could already hear the thunder way off in the distance. He wondered, idly, if Thor was on his way, or just stomping around up on Asgard's golden palace.

But that errant thought turned into a worry. What if Thor paid them all a visit, angry about the Foster confrontation this morning? Would SHIELD let them know if he showed up? Or would he be sent straight to their apartment building?

Steve stood up, pulled his phone from his pocket and noticed it was dead… again. It had been on 'silent' during his meetings this morning and he'd forgotten to turn that off, so he wouldn't have heard any calls anyway. _At least it lasts more than two days now_ , he thought, plugging it into the charger on the end table next to the couch. The screen lit up as the device turned on, going through the animated startup scenes that showcased the Stark logo in flashy gold and red.

He turned away while it was doing that, going to the kitchen for a glass of water.

" _Captain Rogers,_ " Jarvis said from the phone, making Steve' spine snap straight in surprise, _"you have ten missed called from Miss Engman, all sent within the last hour._ "

Steve spun and snatched up the device, his heart leaping into his throat. Sure enough, there was the list of calls.

"Is Elle okay, Jarvis?" he asked, trying to figure out how to call her back from this screen.

" _According to my most recent data, yes,_ " Jarvis answered. " _Miss Engman spoke with me when she failed to reach both you and Mr. Loki. I placed her call through to Mr. Stark, the younger._ _"_

 _Thank God._ Steve heaved a sigh of relief, quelling all the images of Elle lying in the meadow, injured and unable to reach anyone who could help. "Can you connect me to her, please?"

" _Right away, sir._ " Jarvis took over the phone, and the screen changed to the in-call one: blue with Elle's picture at the top and her phone number underneath.

Steve held the phone to his ear as it rang once, twice, three times. Then static or something took over, so loud he had to hold the phone away from his head.

"Elle?" he called, listening to the roar of… something constant.

" _Ste- fine! Can_ _'t land! I'm fi- you hear me?_ "

"I can't hear you!" Steve put the bottom of the phone toward his mouth.

The static lessened, and some muffled cursing came through. " _Stupid damn- There! Can you hear me?_ "

"Yeah." He put the phone back to his ear. "You flying?"

" _Yeah. You need to keep your phone where you can hear it_."

"I know." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "What happened? Are you alright? Are you flying home?"

" _I_ _'m okay. I'm going to the Tower_ ," Elle reported. " _I_ _'m only about fifteen minutes away from there. I don't have my suit, so that's the problem with the wind_."

"Why are you going to the Tower?" Why wasn't she coming home? Did something happen? Was the rest of the team okay?

" _I didn_ _'t think you guys were home, so- oh, and Darren's flying near me in the suit, but- well, here's the thing. Steve? You hear me?_ "

The wind was picking up again. "Barely."

" _We_ _'re running into rain- gotta go higher. Bad reception. Just come to the Tower with Loki. Meet- ten minutes- maybe- I'm okay, though. Okay?_ "

"Okay." Steve held onto that. His heart still felt like it was sitting in his lower intestines. "We'll meet you at the Tower. Fly safe."

" _Don_ _'t panic Loki._ " Elle hung up then, or the phone lost its signal. Either way, Steve was left standing in his lamp-lit living room, staring at the screen, pondering how close they might have come to losing her without being aware of it.

Because something big would have to have happened to send her to New York in such weather with no suit and no plane. And no car. She'd had her car at the meadow, and she'd decided not to take it. And she hadn't come home, instead calling Darren as soon as she realized Steve and Loki couldn't give her backup.

He felt awful about that. They'd been… well, with Loki's magic they'd been seconds away from Eleanore. She was supposed to be able to count on them.

He had to get to the Tower. He'd ask Loki to transport them, and if he wouldn't do it then Steve would fly that quinjet hidden on top of the gym.

He started for the front door with firm resolve. Then he passed the mirror he and Elle had found at a flea market that first week of their acquaintance, which hung next to the door above some hooks that held keys, jackets, sometimes Elle's purse. He looked… angry. Resolved. Deadly. Like Captain America facing an enemy instead of Steve Rogers going to ask his teammate for help.

" _Don_ _'t panic Loki._ " That had been her last comment. And before that, Elle had reiterated that she was fine, and she'd mentioned that Darren was flying with her. She was safe, now. No good overreacting because of a mistake.

Steve took two seconds to breathe. He rearranged his face into a calmer, more reasonable expression. Felt his emotions follow. Then, he steadily walked out of his apartment, locked the door, and let himself in across the hall.

The bathroom door was closed and Loki's bedroom door was open, showcasing an empty room. Charlie trilled across the floor and wound around Steve's ankles.

Steve knocked, but didn't really expect an answer. Loki had soundproofed this room weeks ago, and hadn't removed it as far as Steve was aware. But he _had_ heard Steve leave his apartment that day he'd gone to the gym by himself before he was ready. So the outer walls were permeable.

Steve went back into the hallway and knocked on that wall, right where he knew the shower was. Now that he was listening for it, he could hear the splashing of water. That splashing stopped, and a growl issued from within the room, along with hasty shuffling.

Satisfied he'd been noticed, Steve ventured back into the apartment and waited in front of the closed bathroom door. He couldn't hear anything from there now, but he saw Loki's shadow moving in the light that shone under the door. After about thirty seconds, the other man emerged with a scowl, no shirt, and a pair of Asgardian pants.

"Are you looking for a sparring partner at this hour?" he asked, shaking his towel through his short hair. "Perhaps it _would_ be more interesting here, if I focused on only breaking you instead of the thousand other things in this hovel."

Steve ignored the grumpy tone. This Loki would still call him 'Steve'. "You have your cell phone on you?"

Loki frowned at him, held out his hand, and grabbed the device from the air. "Why?"

"How many missed calls do you have?"

Loki examined the screen. "Eight. From Eleanore…" He looked up and set his jaw. "What's happened?"

Steve began with the most important information. "She's safe. I don't know what happened, but I know she's safe. I just talked to her. She's flying to New York with Jet, to the Tower. She should be there in a few minutes."

Loki tossed his towel aside, somehow donned his full armor in the blink of an eye, and grabbed Steve's wrist in a flash. Then they were standing in the Tower, in the living room, next to the hole in the floor where Hulk had smashed Loki.

They were alone in the room. The lights turned on in response to their presence. Outside, rain was pouring like someone had dumped a bucket from the heavens.

" _Captain Rogers, Mr. Loki. Welcome back._ " Jarvis greeted them with the same cordiality as always. " _Mr. Stark and Miss Engman should be arriving in about seven minutes. I have informed Mr. Stark the elder of your presence. He will be with you shortly._ "

"Does Tony know what happened?" Steve asked the AI.

" _Not to my knowledge. Miss Engman was only connected to Mr. Darren Stark, not to the speaker system._ "

 _At least Darren_ answered, Steve thought to himself with another pang of guilt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Loki clenching his fists.

"Did she tell _him_?" the demigod asked quietly.

" _Yes_ ," Jarvis answered, " _I have the call recorded. From what I can gather, Miss Engman is unharmed. However, she reported a sighting of something strange in the meadow; a robot much like the ones from the FDR Memorial battle._ "

Steve felt his shoulders tense with anxiety. "Did it attack?"

" _No. Miss Engman asked Jet to fly closer to examine it, but the robot turned and began flying away. They followed it, but it flew into the clouds. At this point, I have no further information, as Mr. Stark transferred the call to his suit where protocol dictates I not reveal anything that was said._ "

Loki was visibly grinding his teeth. Steve shifted to draw his attention. "But Elle's safe."

" _Yes, she is_ ," Jarvis promised.

"Then we'll figure out the rest when they get here." That was an easy enough decision; there was no other option. But sometimes it helped other people if Steve (or Captain America) presented a certainty they didn't feel.

"When who get here?" Tony asked, disembarking from the elevator. "You guys invite the gang? Avengers party?"

Loki closed his eyes, looking like he was on the edge of his control.

Steve decided it was time for him to live up to that earlier promise to run interference for his teammate. He placed himself between Tony and Loki and started filling the older man in. "Elle and Darren are on their way here. Elle saw something in the meadow."

"Like grass? Flowers? A rainbow?" Tony quipped.

Steve was saved from answering that by the whirr of repulsors over the sound of the rain. Darren landed on the platform and let the machines take his suit off, then he moved aside so Jet could alight as well.

A robot moved into the room from the bedroom hallway just off the living room. It carried a folded purple bathrobe with a large pair of slippers set on top.

"Dummy, good job," Tony congratulated it. "If you keep messing up in the lab, I'll move you up to serving full time."

The robot made a disgruntled noise, lowering its one arm and dropping everything on the floor.

Elle, Darren, and Jet entered the Tower through the sliding door. Darren and Jet- in dog form- shook rain onto the cement floor and walls. Elle pulled the water off herself with jerky movements. Her hands didn't seem to be working correctly, her teeth were chattering, and her lips were turning purple.

Steve remembered her saying they'd had to fly higher to escape the rain. It must have been near-freezing up there, and even worse with the wind. He picked the robe up off the floor and threw it around her shoulders as the trio made their way over.

"What happened?" He, Loki, and Tony demanded at the same time.

Elle chuckled up at them. "Jinx."

"I'll get you a soda," Tony volunteered. He raced to the kitchen started rustling around in the fridge.

"I'd… take a coffee," Elle said around her clacking teeth. She put her arms through the sleeves of the robe and pulled it close around herself.

"What _happened_?" Loki insisted in a low voice.

Steve had been about to suggest they all sit down, but Elle started speaking before he could. "I was- we were flying. Landed for a break, and I saw one of those robots- well, it looked different, I think. Smaller? And it moved more like a person? But still, the head was shaped the same way. It was over in the trees, next to the log that looks like a dog if you squint. Jet saw it, too, and we started walking over there, but it took off with- Darren, I told you, it looked like your flying things."

"Our repulsors?" Tony asked, coming back with a steaming mug of coffee, which he gave to Elle. "What asshole can replicate our repulsors?"

"No asshole yet," Eleanore told him, shifting her weight to one hip. "Because Jet and I took off to chase it, and it was so _slow_. We caught it, and you know how much time it takes us to get up to even sixty miles an hour."

"Ten-point-five-one seconds," Darren confirmed.

"Yep. That. So we caught up with it, and Jet was going to bite it, but then there was like this explosion or something and it was gone. No pieces, no smoke. It looked like that thing. That _thing_ , Loki." Elle opened and closed her hands to emphasize her point. "The thing you did that one time."

All eyes turned to Loki, then.

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow at them. "You expect me to know what she means?"

Darren held up his hand. A blue light flashed into rivulets that faded to nothing.

Elle nodded excitedly. Her lips were normal-colored now, and her teeth had just about stopped chattering. " _That_. The energy thing. And then everything was green-gold for a second, too. That was you."

"The spell I placed on you for protection," Loki confirmed. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Hm. It seems to have deflected what sounds like a magic-fueled vaporization. And the dragon's magic must have protected it again."

Steve's stomach, which had returned to its normal place upon seeing Eleanore land safely, dropped. _A vaporization?! That_ _'s what we missed calls about?_ They could have gone the entire afternoon without knowing, if she'd been caught in it. They wouldn't have missed her for _hours_. And by the time they got to the meadow, that magic probably would have dispersed in the air. They might never have known.

And Loki should be more upset about this than he was. Steve found interest, acceptance, calm in the other man's demeanor. No concern. But if Elle had died, so would Loki. Was he that… that willing to go? Or was he so confident in whatever spell he had on Eleanore that this was something he could shrug off?

"You okay?" Darren asked for all of them, putting an arm around Elle's shoulders and hugging her close, looking like someone had just killed his puppy.

"Yeah, just cold from flying." Elle leaned into his embrace and took a sip of her coffee. Grimaced. "Jesus Christ, what's in here?"

"Brandy, you lightweight," Tony teased. "Helps you warm up."

"She's nineteen," Steve reprimanded him.

"I put in the child-sized portion."

"And no sugar," Elle complained, pushing the mug at the older Stark. "And alcohol doesn't actually help warm you up, it just makes you think you're warmer by pushing the blood closer to the surface of your skin, lowering your core temperature, which actually makes you colder.

"So we've established that _you_ _'re_ fine," Tony quipped, taking the coffee back.

"Let's sit down," Steve finally managed to suggest. Watching the still-shivering mutant woman was making him antsy. At least if they were seated on those large-cushioned, blanket-laden sofas, she could curl in on herself and hunker down in a lot of material.

Thankfully, the team followed his suggestion. Loki positioned himself on one of the loveseats with his back to the windows. Darren sat at one end of the longer black leather couch that faced the television and wrapped his arm around Eleanore, who shed her tennis shoes and slid into the slippers Dummy brought over. Steve sat on the same couch, trying to look her over to make sure she really _was_ okay and not just pretending at it. Tony paced around until he finally came to rest with his hip against a gray-fabric easy chair.

"Tell it again, Princess," the older Stark invited.

"What did the repulsors look like?" Darren added, giving Elle's shoulder a squeeze.

Elle chuckled to herself. "Repulsive. No, they looked dimmer than yours, though. So, I'm wondering what kind of power source that bot had, because it was obviously better than the ones we fought."

"And it didn't try to fight you?" Steve clarified. "It just… ran away?"

"It was clearly trying to draw her into the air. To kill her, and to maim the dragon," Loki said flatly.

"Clearly," Tony agreed easily. He fixed Eleanore with an intense stare. "So, Princess, how do those trackers sound now?"

 _Trackers?_ Steve was lost, still stuck on the fact that Elle had survived an assassination attempt from a magic robot controlled by who-knew-who.

And she was giving Tony a _look_. "Still terrible. I said no, I meant no."

"You know _we_ wouldn't be tracking you, Jarvis would," Darren pointed out. "He'd just let the team know…"

"... if we're in danger." Elle finished his sentence. "I know. But I still don't like the idea." She looked at Steve. "Tony was just texting me this afternoon about putting, like tracking bracelets on us to monitor our vitals and locations."

Steve nodded in appreciation of the explanation. Elle always tried to bring everyone into the loop. "I don't know that bracelets would help, if we're ambushed."

"But Jarvis can alert us to the fight, so we can come and help you," Darren pointed out.

Loki scoffed and crossed his arms. "By the time _you_ _'d_ arrive, we would be victorious or dead."

That was unnecessarily mean, Steve thought, but also true. "I think it'd be more useful if we just kept in contact. I should have been watching my phone this afternoon, so we could have given Elle backup." He frowned as guilt gave his heart a final squeeze. "I won't let that happen again."

Elle crooked a sympathetic smile at him. "Steve, my _mom_ doesn't always answer when I call. My whole family's bad at it. And I didn't phone you until after the robot was gone, so it's fine."

"I suspect you'd have a different opinion, if you weren't here and safe," Loki retorted. "You shouldn't have given chase at all. It was a rash decision. You were lucky to live through it."

Elle's smile turned into an ironic grin. "I think that could be our team slogan."

Steve shook his head at them both. "The important thing is, she's safe. We can learn from this."

"We're _trying_ to learn," Tony pointed out. "Our guest lecturer here keeps getting sidetracked. You said that bot was smaller- smaller how?"

So Elle launched into a more detailed description of what she'd seen and done. How the robot was completely still, and how the metal was dulled so it wouldn't shine in the random sunlight. How it moved more 'like a person,' jumping to aid its takeoff once it reached a clearing in the trees. How the repulsors seemed louder than the Iron Man suits, and how it had aimed straight for the tail-end of the clouds for cover as Jet caught up to it.

Dummy brought a tray of drinks- hot chocolate this time- and then it handed Elle a tablet that displayed a projection of one of the robots from the FDR Memorial. Elle scaled it bit by bit and added repulsors to the image until she said it looked pretty much the same as the one she'd seen.

When she ran out of observations, Tony and Darren started asking her questions. Did the robot look back at Jet as they approached? Yes. Did it look like it had a weapon on it? No. What was stabilizing the flight? Only a couple tiny thrusters and the hand repulsors.

"What sort of noise accompanied the explosion?" Loki asked during a lull.

"Not much," Elle replied. "It was windy already, but mostly I felt it rather than heard it. Like a weird shockwave."

Loki set one elbow on the arm of his chair and drew his finger over his lips, visibly considering her words.

"Is that normal?" Elle asked, when no one spoke for a moment.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her. "Nothing on this powerless rock is normal."

Steve hastily spoke up before Tony could start a fight about that. "Why did you ask about it, then?"

"It sounds… unfamiliar."

"Something unfamiliar from this _powerless rock_?" Tony jibed.

"Unfamiliar in that I am not certain of the magic's intent any longer," Loki clarified with a scowl.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"Usually, one can tell the intent behind a spell by its effects." Loki was speaking to Eleanore, which reminded Steve of Darren. "But since my magic protected you, there is nothing to observe."

"Could you use your special eyes to scope it out if we went back to the spot?" Tony asked.

"By now, in the open air, and with the energy from the storms, the magic wouldn't be noticeable any longer."

Steve was glad they wouldn't have to galivant around in the bands of storms that were slowly moving along the East Coast. He was doubly glad Elle would get a chance to sit here and rest while they talked through their options. He sipped his hot chocolate and saw her eyes blinking rapidly. She must be tired, after this morning's confrontation and now this hasty, freezing flight.

But she grinned at Steve over her own mug and turned to lean her back against Darren so she could face him. "So how was _your_ afternoon?"

"It was… good," Steve supplied. It _had_ been good, and some of the good had happened at the same time Eleanore had been in danger.

She must have sensed some of his discomfort. "I'm seriously fine, Steve. Anyway, I was texting Maria in between flights, and she says Jane Foster is going to leave D.C. within a couple of days."

"That's good news." Steve knew he was overreacting to the past now, so he welcomed the change in subject. It stopped his mind from reeling back to earlier that day, when that rare sullen moment made him remember that Elle was a teenager. _She_ _'s still herself_ , he thought sternly. _What would Peggy say if she saw you judging by age?_ And thinking of Peggy made him think of the care center, and of his visit with Lydia. "I talked to your mom today."

"What'd she have to say?"

"She talked about you."

Elle grinned. "Predictable." She settled back to listen to the other men debate the magician's robot's intent.

The debate lasted a while. Steve hadn't been around many scientists, only Howard, and he wasn't used to the way they talked in circles, airing ideas and until they didn't even seem relevant anymore.

"We could set up some observational equipment in the meadow to catch any other robots," Darren suggested about ten minutes in, having discussed and discarded the idea of using satellite imagery to find footage of the explosion in the clouds.

Elle shifted. "This is interesting and all, but I'm more worried about how this thing found us. I had the projectors turned on as soon as I parked the car."

"Maybe this guy's got tracking on you already," Tony said.

"Hardly," Loki countered. "I would have seen any foreign magic attached to Eleanore or the dragon. No, more likely is that they followed your car, seeing you were alone."

"Jet didn't notice it until we landed after flying for like half an hour," Elle objected. "He would have noticed something like that in the air, following us."

"You put a great deal of faith in a creature that never speaks to you."

"She puts a lot of faith in a lot of creatures," Tony pointed out. "But Princess, I'm gonna have to go with Nosferatu here on this one. They must have followed you."

Elle shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Steve could tell she didn't think they were correct. Steve himself had no idea what to believe. All he knew was that Eleanore had been caught in a dangerous explosion, and no one had been there to help her.

The other three men devolved into a discussion again. Lofty magical theory started flying back and forth between Loki and Darren, and Tony started to get confrontational because he didn't understand them anymore.

"We could try for something different, if we had any images of the fight."

"We _don_ _'t_ have any images; how often must you be reminded of that? No, you should set up observational equipment as you said. It will give you an idea of danger, if nothing else. In the meantime, I will continue developing tracking spells. Where have you gotten with palladium?"

"About as far as we can throw you, Bill Nye. You say it works, but I haven't had any luck with the sensors so far."

"Well, if you would have treated it the way I told you…"

"I did treat a sample, but it still won't pick anything up, other than the usual heat and whatever. I've started examining its fundamental properties, too, and I see what you mean about acceptance. But it's not seeking out magical energy the way we'd want it to."

"God, you two, write a paper together. Then we could finally understand your not-so-scientific terms."

"I think we need to work on protective armor," Darren continued, ignoring his father.

"Protecting who from what? I am your best chance of that," Loki scoffed.

"If Elle could fly away from threats? Or Steve could have an arm cannon?"

Elle finally chimed in. "Again. No. Darren, I hate clunky suits. And no one wants to be Samus from _Metroid_."

Steve blinked. Elle sounded pretty annoyed at her boyfriend. This topic must still come up a lot.

Still, he didn't want an arm cannon. And it seemed like these arguments were getting them nowhere. It was time to go.

Steve stood up.

No one stopped talking. Darren continued his postulation about new repulsor tech experiments, Loki kept rolling his eyes at Tony, who was starting fidget and looked like he'd start a real fight any second.

So Steve turned to Eleanore, who was the only person looking at him. "You want to go home?"

She nodded eagerly. "Oh yeah. We could take a jet, if they want to…" she glanced at Loki. "Actually, Loki, would you mind taking us ho— back to the apartment?"

Steve noticed how she skirted around the word 'home', which she usually used to refer to her apartment. Loki wouldn't call it home, and he'd be offended if she pushed that label on him.

Loki finally stopped jibing Tony and Darren and stood as well. "Perhaps a quieter venue will give me the room I need to solve this problem of yours." He walked over and held out his hand.

"Hey, you can't just say we're completely wrong and _leave_ ," Tony protested.

"I'm tired," Elle complained. "Mostly, tired of listening to you guys bicker. We'll come back. Email us your ideas, okay?"

Darren stood and kissed her on the forehead. "Okay. Stay safe. Love you." He looked over at the elevator, obviously eager to get to his lab again.

"Bye, love you too," Elle said. "Bye, Tony."

"Try not to get blown up for real, Princess." Tony gruffly crossed his arms and glared at the three of them.

Steve figured he was having a small tantrum, so he placed his hand on Loki's and ignored Tony's glare. "Thanks for the hot chocolate."

"And the brandy," Elle added with one of those warm smiles.

Tony shook his head. "Come back when you don't have Carrie Nation watching your ID."

Steve actually understood that reference. He'd seen news reels with Carrie Nation's hatchet when he was a kid. "Good one," he called, feeling Loki's magic pull his stomach.

They were back in the apartment in another instant. Like before, Steve's stomach stayed in place as his feet found the creaky floorboards again.

"Thanks," Elle said to Loki, backing off and flopping onto the couch. She pulled the yellow quilt from where it was folded on a shelf under the end table and wrapped herself in it. "I hope you guys don't mind if I just sit here and don't move for a while."

Loki withdrew his hand and sank into his own chair, picking up a thick book. "As you please."

"What one is that?" Eleanore asked him with a grin.

"The third, if you must know."

Steve figured Loki was reading a series she'd recommended. He glanced around the apartment, wondering if he'd be out of place if he stayed.

"Want to watch the news?" Elle invited, shuffling over so half the couch was free.

"Sure." Steve sat down and turned on the local news channel. They sat through a couple of commercials, but they were just in time to catch the six o'clock broadcast.

It opened with the typical instrumental jingle, and then a stone-faced reporter started speaking. " _In the headlines tonight, a mass shooting in Seattle, Washington. Three people dead, and four more in the hospital after this afternoon_ _'s shooting spree. Local man Sinclair Cargil opened fire just inside the entrance of a coffee shop, hitting the patrons before taking his own life._ "

Steve's stomach, which had stayed quiet through both Loki's transportations, twisted in revulsion. How could someone just… do that?

" _We go now to Douglas Fletcher, live at the scene_."

A blue-clad young man showed up on the screen, talking loudly into his microphone. " _Wanda, I_ _'m about half a block away from 'Seattle's Joe,' where this tragedy unfolded._ "

The camera panned over the shop, showcasing emergency responders, mostly police, moving about the scene.

" _Witnesses report walking by the shop and noticing the sounds of gunfire. One woman told us she would have run, but she didn_ _'t recognize the noise right away_."

Steve clenched his fists, feeling completely useless. A woman showed up on the screen, describing everything she'd seen. " _Mostly, I just heard the shots. But then I saw this man running at me, and he fell down_ _… with a lot of blood. And this other man had a gun, but he started turning it around to his head. And then he shot it._ "

 _Good_ , Steve thought viciously. That kind of monster deserved to die. Although suicide was probably the easiest way out, after all he'd done. The real victims had been left defenseless, bleeding out, terrified. And three of them were dead.

Elle laid a hand on his arm. "Should we gear up?"

Steve tore his eyes from the screen, back to the warm-lit room. The exhausted-looking young woman beside him. "No," he decided aloud, automatically. "It would take too long for us to get there. The rescue teams have it handled." He stood up, trying to get his anger away from her.

She nodded and curled back into her blankets with a sigh. "I shouldn't be this glad about staying home."

"You should save your energy for something more worthwhile," Loki commented, not looking up from his book.

That remark rankled, like an itch under Steve's skin. "This is worthwhile."

Loki's expression blanked from snide confidence to unreadability. "Of course."

Steve took that for what it was: a concession to avoid an argument. He wouldn't take the issue any further, not tonight. He was still aware of how grateful he should be that their little team was still whole and safe.

"It's not as though there will be another attack tomorrow," Loki continued with a bitter bite to his voice. "Of course, humans are so _peaceful_ and _evolved_ , you don't lend your hand to unnecessary violence. So this instance, this random carnage, would be well worth your attention. You should drag us across the globe for every such occurrence."

Steve stood stock-still, shocked by that venom. "It's worth our effort, if we can help people."

Loki finally glanced up, but his eyes were directed at the TV. "Those who are dead are dead, and you can't help the injured ones. The killer is beyond your reach as well. Where _is_ the advantage to our presence?"

Anger coiled in Steve's chest. "You'd have us stay on the sidelines until… until someone 'worthy' comes along?"

"Someone your mortals can't deal with, yes. Why waste your time chasing a hundred tiny occurrences, when there is a more threatening foe at large?"

"Because people will die if we don't help."

"Mortals do very little, other than dying and reproducing to fill this planet with refuse. What's one more or less? What's fifty more? A hundred?" Loki sat back with a scowl and glared down at his book again. "They will be replaced as quickly as they are killed."

"People aren't replaceable." Steve's chest gave a squeeze as he thought of those seven men and women. The effect was larger than that. How did Loki not see this? Children had lost their parents. Friends and family were probably just processing the news that their loved one would never come home.

Elle stirred out of her nest again. "Well, we don't really need to fight about it, since we're staying here." Her voice was reasonable and a little flat, very quiet, as though she was trying not to emulate the emotions of the other two men.

Steve set his jaw. How could she be so callous about this? "Some fights are too important to walk away from."

"Spoken like a true warrior," Loki said sourly.

His hateful tone bit deeper than Steve liked to admit. "What's wrong with that?" he challenged.

"Nothing, you're a warrior," Eleanore cut in again with a pointed look at Loki that clearly asked, 'what's with you?'

Loki scoffed at her and Steve at the same time. "So quick to punch a problem. You can't survive without a war to fight, can you?"

Steve ground his teeth. "Last time I checked, only one person in this room _starts_ battles..." _...and you can_ _'t finish them_ , he mentally added with the barest restraint. This was already getting more intense than he liked, in such a confined space.

As if to emphasize that point, Loki bolted from his chair to tower over everyone, looking down his nose at them- mostly Steve- with disgust. But instead of saying anything more, he bared his teeth in a soundless growl and disappeared.

Steve was left with the impression of clenched fists and sparking, cold power that raised goosebumps along his arms. He stared at Loki's chair, where the abandoned book flapped closed with whispering pages and a soft _thunk_.

Elle inhaled and flopped over on the couch so her face was buried in one of the throw pillows. From there, she started making noise- actually, it sounded like she was borderline shouting- into the cushion in a long string of inaudibility. It was impossible to tell if she was talking, or if it was all one long, sustained groan.

Steve stood there and listened. He knew he should probably leave and get his head on straight, but he needed to understand just where _this_ teammate disagreed with him so he knew where he stood on both sides. And he couldn't help feeling bitter disappointment at Elle's flippant attitude toward the problem. It mattered. It mattered a lot.

Elle's muffled words quieted after a couple minutes, and she sat up with a tired sigh and reached for her phone. "Where do you think he went?"

Steve shrugged. "He'll come back." He couldn't bring himself to care about Loki's location right now. The man wouldn't cause mayhem because he simply couldn't, and anywhere he went away from Steve was great for the moment.

Elle's thumbs paused their tapping on the phone's screen. "Well, we have to find him."

Steve shook his head. "I don't know that we can, unless you want to order him back." _Let_ _'s go for as much damage as possible tonight. See how that works out._

"I'm not going to order him, and neither are you." This was said with the calm authority of someone who knows they will be obeyed.

"We might not have a choice." I _might not have a choice_. He said it before he really thought about it. If he'd considered a moment longer, Steve probably wouldn't have spoken at all. He was horribly disappointed in his team tonight, if they could even be called 'his'. Would this little experiment even work out? Could such a differently-minded group work together for more than a few days at a time without fighting like this? How could everything have gone so wrong in just a few minutes?

And, now that he was facing the third member of their band, he found an unfamiliar, blank-but-dangerous expression on her face.

"We _always_ have a choice," Elle said, her voice as harsh as it was low.

 _One fight at a time_ , Steve figured. "And if the choice comes down to saving people or-"

"- It won't come to it," Elle interrupted him.

"But what if it does?" Steve insisted.

"It _won_ _'t_."

"Elle…" Steve understood her unwillingness to choose. But she needed to be prepared for it, if Loki's attitude was anything to go by.

" _Steve_." This was as belligerent as she'd ever been with him. And she seemed to realize that as soon as Steve did. Elle drew in a long breath and closed her eyes while doing so. Then she let that breath out, still not opening her eyes. "Will you please hand me a glass of water?"

Steve complied silently. He didn't know where he stood with her, but he knew she was exhausted because he hadn't been available earlier. Water was the least he could do. And the request was a good sign that they might be able to salvage something from this fight.

"Thanks," Elle said, taking the glass, draining it in a couple gulps, and refilling it from the air. Then she grinned up at him, cautiously. "I guess you really didn't need to fill it from the sink."

"I don't mind." Steve sat on the other end of the couch with the glass he'd gotten for himself, feeling a lot calmer as he downed its contents. And when Elle refilled it for him, he gave an easy nod of thanks. After all, the fight wasn't her fault. And she must be… really frustrated by it, now that Steve was calm enough to consider her point of view. "Are you alright?" he asked, recalling then that she'd probably felt- been forced to feel- every wave of emotion in the room, from anger to resentment to whatever Loki had been embroiled in. She'd said once that stronger emotions were harder to ignore.

Charlie took the opportunity to jump into Steve's lap then. The cat curled up and claimed his left arm to hug, grunting and rolling over for a belly rub with all the carefree assumption of belonging a happy cat should feel.

"I'm okay," Elle said, watching as Steve obeyed the cat's silent command. "I'm glad you didn't yell."

That seemed like a strange statement, seeing as Steve had done enough damage without yelling at all. But if she chose to find a good point somewhere, he wouldn't take it away. Still, Steve had no idea how to reply to that.

But Elle continued speaking after a second, anyway. "I didn't mean that you were wrong, you know. When I said it didn't matter."

 _Coulda fooled me_ , Steve thought with a very quiet snort. "So what did you mean?"

"I meant that you were basically fighting about nothing. Like… like Loki didn't mean what you thought he meant, and you were reacting to something that was a non-issue."

"Oh, that's so much better," Steve drawled. _Wow, I_ _'m the one who sounds like Loki now_.

"Now _you_ sound like Loki," Elle chuckled. Then that chuckle turned into a sigh. "Also because neither of you can back away from an argument."

"Which you say was a non-argument."

"Non-issue," she corrected. "Because you weren't listening. You got kind of hurt when he said we should save our strength for something worthwhile, but he was really agreeing with you and… he might have been trying to make me feel better."

Steve thought back over every instant. How Elle had been relieved to stay home and rest. How she'd felt guilty about that. And how that was when Loki had told _her_ to save her strength. "He did say it wasn't worthwhile," Steve pointed out, feeling like a sore loser even as he said it.

"Yeah, he and Darren are a little bit harsh about things like that," Elle agreed comfortably.

"Darren is?" Steve asked, incredulous. The younger Stark was one of the quietest, most driven people he'd ever met. Steve assumed the quiet came from his unknown mother, because it did not run on his father's side. And Darren rarely spoke to Steve (or Elle, or anyone) about anything except science and work.

"Oh yeah," Elle said with an 'isn't that obvious?' expression. "You don't know him very well yet. He tries to be comforting, like, when I'm feeling bad about not getting everything done- oh, once I forgot a college assignment and I felt _terrible_ about it, and Darren said, 'Who cares about school,' and, 'If that professor doesn't understand how busy you are, then they're the idiot'."

Steve tried to picture that and almost got there. He remembered how decidedly not-quiet the younger man had been about the World Council shooting a nuke at Manhattan. Still. "You're saying Loki is like Darren."

"Quite a bit." Elle held up a hand and ticked off her points on her fingers. "Super-geniuses. Not appreciated, especially about magic. Both could probably go into Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Weird childhoods. Callous, sometimes weird, sense of humor. "At that point, she ran out of fingers on one hand, so she started over, staring at the ceiling as she thought and started over. "Kinda rude if you don't know them very well. Protective, but not like you. Helpful, also not like you… or me. They like people to think they don't give a shit, but they actually give a lot of shits. Probably too many." List completed, Elle put her arms back in her blankets and burrowed again until only her face was visible.

Steve wasn't convinced she was completely right. "You know Loki that well after less than a month?"

"Well, I've known Darren for three years, so I have a head start."

That was a discussion for another day. "Whatever you say… but that still doesn't mean he was right to say those people don't matter."

"He wasn't saying that. Not at first, anyway."

"What was he saying at first? Between the words 'more' and 'worthwhile'."

Elle scrunched up her face. "I told you already, I think he was trying to make me feel better about not wanting to go out again tonight."

"You think?" Steve challenged.

"Yeah, I can't be sure of his intentions, but he didn't feel like he was teasing us. He got antsy when you responded."

Steve frowned. _So this is my fault._

"It's not your fault," Elle said, like the mind-reader Loki used to think she was. "We've all had a tough day. And you _are_ right; those people do matter. It's sad that they died."

"So what-" Steve started to ask.

"I meant the _argument_ didn't matter. Like, it wasn't worth fighting about it because a) neither of you were going to change your mind, and b) it's a moot point."

"It's not 'moot' if one of our teammates doesn't value human lives, Elle," Steve insisted. How was this not obvious to her?

"Steve, that's not the problem, though." She was just as earnest. Trying to make him understand something. "I'm not explaining this right. Just… I need a second to think about what I'm saying."

Steve could give her that. He could give more than that, actually. "You can go to bed, too, if you want. We can talk about this in the morning. I'll stay up and wait for Loki to come home."

"Um, no. I don't want you to fight without me around, and I'm too stressed out to sleep." Elle pressed the heel of one hand into her forehead, like she was trying to suffocate a headache. "Ugh. Okay. So. The argument doesn't matter because the point isn't whether or not Loki thinks that any humans are worth our time. The _point_ is that he would have come with us, even if he thought it was stupid."

Steve saw what she was saying, then. The idea broke over his head like a bucket of ice water, drenching him in uncomfortable understanding.

"And it's the same for me, you know?" Elle continued, just as earnestly as before. "I'd have gone with you if you thought we should. I didn't think we needed to- I've grown up with that kind of violence hanging over my head- but I would have followed you onto a plane. So you don't have to worry about our values, Steve. Okay? Because we'll follow you pretty much no matter what."

Steve's chest felt tight again, but this time it was from the weight of the responsibility he carried. His team was… his. Really his. Elle was right about that.

He glanced at the ceiling. "Can you tell if he's up there?"

Elle stared upward as well, brow knit in concentration. "No, I don't think he is."

Steven nodded. It was time for him to go, now. So Loki could come back. "I'll see you both tomorrow then."

Elle's thoughtful gaze softened as she met his eyes. "You don't have to leave right away," she assured him.

"You get some sleep," Steve said. "I think I'll go… punch my cares away."

She sighed at him, and that sigh was resigned. "Watch out for robots."

"You too." He left, closing the apartment door gently, and quickly gathering his gym bag from his bedroom. It would be good to clear his head after today. He'd take his own advice as have some real time off, too.

When he came back, he and his team would work on saving the world.

A/N: _**Sorry for the wait! A bit shorter than last time, though! I've been working on this in spare minutes at work, and when I get home at night. Unfortunately, I have such a nice, loving family that my weekends typically don't allow me to spend as much time as I'd like on this story (sarcasm about my family; I like them). But I do have 3,000 words written for the next chapter already!**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thanks! I'm imagining that Loki and Elle do have a lot more in common than Loki will ever admit. It's fun to make him realize he's not the only person in the universe who's had some experiences, too.**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **Thank you! Loki truly isn't the type to ask anyone for help, poor guy. It's one of those grown-up things they didn't teach in Asgardian prince-school.**_ __

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thanks for reading and sticking with this story! It's always a pleasure to read your thoughts! Please rate and review!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	30. Chapter 30: L Understanding

Loki breathed in the smell of the meadow. This was a perfect place to visit, really. He should have come earlier, instead of sticking around that horrid hovel waiting for this miserable day to end.

The wind blustered through the fir trees, brushing warm fingers through his hair. Loki had been drawn here, after initially transporting himself to the apartment building roof, because he was tired of the sights and smells and sounds of the city. And the breeze was drowning those impressions quite well. Initially, he had planned on investigating any traces of magic he could find. But after a long, cathartic, circular trek through the forest, he had found nothing to suggest another's presence at all. Natural forces like wind and rain— both present over the course of the day— were powerful neutralizers.

Loki paused under a tall tree at the eastern edge of the meadow, opposite the squat building, and looked up through the branches. Stars shimmered now in a perfectly clear sky. The woods were washed clean with the rain, and Loki pictured the waves of air washing him through as well. For a moment, he could imagine it. All the dishonorable thoughts, the insidious magic that lurked in every corner of his being were swept away, leaving… what, exactly? A blue-skinned monster. No force of nature except death itself would purge him of that.

 _What useless thoughts are these?_ Loki pulled himself away from the stars and the dismal self-reflection sharply. He strode into the meadow until he reached the middle, and stood there, unsure of what to do. Around him, the night settled in like a blanket.

He'd already fought off the Other's anger, which the ignorant, foolish Captain had spurred in him without realizing. It had been simpler to do alone, here, with nothing to harm. Perhaps the Other liked to strain Loki when there was more risk involved. Perhaps Loki was more vulnerable with the humans around. Either way, he was tired.

 _Tired of being a disappointment_ , the nasty voice bit out, pulling up memories of Steve's offended blue gaze.

 _Tired of fighting_ , the more annoying voice answered. More annoying in that it carried a stab of longing for a warm-lit room and smile, a deck of cards, a box of cookies that anyone could eat, even though they served as payment.

 _That_ _'s out of reach for you_ , Loki told himself firmly. He wouldn't be dragging himself back into that apartment again for a reconciliation. Eleanore clearly had no power over the leader of the Avengers; every attempt she'd made to neutralize the argument had been trampled under Steve's firm resolve.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, as if that witch was reading his thoughts. Sure enough, the text message was from Eleanore.

" _I_ _'m guessing you're at the meadow or on the roof. I won't bother you, just wanted to let you know Steve left and he probably won't be back tonight. Also, we're not mad at you. I'm not, at least. He's tough to read sometimes, but I'm pretty sure he's getting over it. Anyway, just be safe, and let me know if I can help with anything. -Eleanore_ "

Loki read through the message a couple of times, but then another one came through less than a minute later.

" _I put the baklava in the fridge this morning, so there_ _'s that if you're hungry. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight._ "

Though this message was shorter, Loki stared at it even longer, until the screen went dark from inactivity. Then he tucked the device back into his pocket with a sigh. He debated internally before sitting in the tall grass and leaning back on his elbows to survey the stars again. He had time and space to think out here in a way he lacked within the confines of mortal construction.

These humans were so foreign to him, after all. They were unpredictable. This was becoming a norm, at least with the Engman mother and daughter. And Thor's woman. She had significantly more fire than Loki would ever have expected, based on Thor's past relational history. And Darren, that halfling, proved unpredictability could be detrimental.

But Loki vastly preferred it to the mundane. And Steve was hopelessly, foolishly mundane.

It shouldn't have been that simple to get a rise out of him, first of all. Loki hadn't even been trying, not really. He'd been replying to Eleanore's guilty admission of relief absently, most of his attention focused on the second Harry Potter book he'd started. But when Steve took that injured tone, Loki's bitterness had risen in an old, familiar way.

Because of course they shouldn't have gone to that shooting. Completely across the country, it would have taken them over an hour to fly there in the fastest quinjet. The scene had already been cleared on the news. There was no magic, no lead for finding the magician. Surely a leader would know that he shouldn't exhaust his 'team' by pushing them after non-threats they could do nothing about.

Apparently not, though. If Steve had his way, he'd make them respond to every little problem in this pitiful world. Insipid. Boring. Loki couldn't bear boring any longer. No matter who he was 'supposed' to be, he knew he would snap and kill someone in very short order if Steve insisted on such foolhardy tactics.

And then the magician would be free to wreak as much havoc as they liked, Loki considered with a small grin to himself. He was really their only chance of catching the monster in a timely manner. And if he had the unfortunate luck (and what of his luck had been fortunate lately?) of killing Eleanore, then the Avengers would be set even further back. Loki doubted very much that Darren Stark would feel an interest in helping this world if his mortal lover were gone from it. And where would SHIELD be without her and her Asgardian puppet?

 _Not Asgardian_ , the nasty voice corrected him. _Surely, the universe would be better off less one Frost Giant. Even if this villain killed a million mortals, they could hardly rival the damage you cause with every footstep_.

The nasty voice was what Lydia would call dramatic.

Loki did his best to ignore it, though he knew it spoke the truth. There was nothing he could do now, since he had no plans to end himself. Again. For now.

 _It would probably fail again anyway._ This from his own thoughts. Surprisingly morbid, for as flat as Loki actually felt. He gazed at the unfamiliar constellations and felt his presence in the open field of damp earth and whispering grasses.

He felt very young for a moment, looking up at the large sky and lacking the knowledge to chart it. Earth's moon was absent. Only the vastness of the galaxy bore down, humbling his soul. He'd been out among a mere handful of those stars. Asgard wasn't visible at all. He'd left little enough impression everywhere but the Realm Eternal; most of the other Nine had probably shrugged off his ruling attempt as a blink on an otherwise smooth timeline. Only Jotunheim and Asgard would remember, and for how long?

Those ice-blooded monsters probably didn't even blame Loki specifically for their destruction. As far as they knew, Odin had been king and had sent down the Bifrost's ray to smite them for their insolence.

So, truly, Loki wasn't even a legend there. And here, on Midgard, among the boring masses of humanity, he was known only to a few. From prince to… this.

The wind picked up in a sudden gust. Loki suddenly longed for that noise to signify the dragon's wings or a car approaching. Company. The right kind of company. To distract him from this ache growing in his chest.

But it was only the wind. And now his elbows and his rear end were damp from the not-yet-dried ground. Loki got up and banished the grime from his clothing with an early-learned spell. He glanced around, half-expecting another robot to be hidden in the treeline. He'd welcome the challenge now. Let the magician try to kill _him_ , and they would soon see their folly.

But there was nothing and no one. Only a tree-rimmed bowl full of stars.

Eleanore must be asleep by now, Loki decided. There was no weakness in returning to his bedroom if she didn't even know he was there. And there was little enough risk Steve would show up to lecture him again tonight.

So back he went. The light above the stove was on, but everything else was dark.

And Eleanore was asleep on the couch, sprawled on her stomach under the yellow and white patchwork quilt normally tucked away on the end table's shelf. Charlie leapt from his perch at her feet and trilled over to Loki as soon as he appeared.

Loki picked the animal up so it would quiet down, and then he set a moderate sound barrier over the couch, like a bubble. Eleanore did not stir. Loki made the barrier permeable enough that he'd hear if she suddenly did.

Next, he went into the kitchen and set Charlie down on the floor. Baklava sounded sufficient, as long as there was more than a couple of pieces left. As it turned out, the majority of the pastry was there in its little white box. And right next to it was a plate covered in the thin plastic film mortals liked to use, on top of which was a square piece of paper that said 'Loki' in Eleanore's hand.

Loki huffed and turned the paper over to reveal more of a note, and meat and cheese and the unsweetened wafers called 'crackers'.

" _I don_ _'t know what part of sandwiches you don't like, so I thought I'd let you pick and choose. Also, this way I avoid the negative connotations associated with making a man a sandwich. My mom used to make these for me, too, without the crackers. We call them homemade Lunchables._ "

Loki wondered if there was any hidden meaning behind the small meal. There certainly wasn't much to the note. An assurance of acceptance, perhaps, or a peace offering. Eleanore's mention of her mother might be an appeal to his more vulnerable side, but she'd said such things before in passing as a way of explaining herself. And she had been tired when she wrote this. And when she made him dinner.

He glanced at the couch and considered the sleeping woman. She liked her bedroom; he'd never seen her even nap out here before. Perhaps she'd had trouble sleeping after the conflict? Was this plate something she'd done as a distraction for herself?

Either way, he was not hungry enough to try it. Instead, he retrieved the baklava and ate it standing in front of the closed refrigerator. He wondered what the 'negative connotations' of sandwiches and men were here. Loki himself simply didn't care for Midgardian sandwiches because they reminded him of field rations packaged long before they were eaten, and the mortals liked to stuff foolish ingredients into the normally simple fare. Also, some of the bread on Midgard was bland and tasteless, white and soft and insufficient.

But the baklava was delicious, even cold. Loki finished the entire pastry before he considered whether he was being rude or not. _And do I care if I am?_ No, he didn't. So he threw the box away with the note to let her know he'd seen her offering of whatever it was and had passed it over.

A trip to the bathroom, and he was ready for the quiet privacy of his most comfortable prison cell yet. Loki walked around the little counter island and pulled the sound barrier off Eleanore as he went.

Unfortunately, something about that action must have disturbed her. She sat up partway, propped on her elbows. "Loki?"

Loki stopped in the doorway of his room, looking back over his shoulder. When Eleanore didn't continue speaking, he replied, "Yes?"

"There's something wrong with the plane."

Loki frowned and rotated to face her fully. With the plane that now sat on top of the gym building? What had gone wrong with it? And why was she telling him? Was there some spell placed? Something Darren had seen? Had someone taken the jet and horribly crashed? "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you hear the message?" Eleanore asked.

Loki pulled out his phone. Nothing. "When was it sent?"

"Right… now? You had to hear it. On the speakers."

 _Oh_. Oh, how horribly funny. He could get some entertainment out of sleep-talking. "Could you remind me what the message said?"

"It said something is wrong with the plane," Eleanore replied.

"Mm, not terribly comprehensive, was it?"

"Can you tell what's…" Eleanore's expression scrunched up in confusion. "You're laughing at me."

"I'm not," Loki insisted. He _wasn_ _'t_. It would wake her up. He'd laugh later, possibly in her fully-aware face.

Her eyes blinked rapidly, and then really focused on him. "I was asleep."

Now, he could laugh. And he did. Calm, collected Eleanore Engman had just spoken to him from a dream. "Yes, it seems you were."

Even in the dim light from the stove, Loki could see the blush spread quickly over her cheeks. Her stomach-digging embarrassment hit him a moment later, Eleanore buried her face in the sofa cushion she'd been sleeping on.

Loki had never seen her embarrassed before. It was less satisfying than he'd expected when he'd tried to cause the state previously. He felt sympathy instead, recalling all the times he'd ever been just this disconcerted as others made fun of him. His stomach settled as Eleanore got her empathic power under control, but that annoyingly open voice exerted itself at the same time to extend understanding sympathy, pushing his more innocent, confused, hazy recollections to the forefront of his mind. He took a step back into the sitting room before he stopped and considered what he was doing. This was ridiculous. A little shame never hurt anyone. And he was angry with her— less so than with Steve, but still. She _deserved_ this.

 _No one deserves this_ , the damned voice countered. It pushed that sympathy inward, back to Loki's memories of childhood harassment, before he knew how to properly barricade himself away from the world. The voice tore him in two in that moment, as it pulled against his habit of avoidance.

 _I should never have returned here._ Not until morning, at least. He could have stayed under the unassuming stars, and let her sleep-talk to nobody until the sun rose. And still, humor tugged his mouth upwards because it was _funny._

A clear memory dawned then, one of his earliest. Frigga explaining some dream to him, trying to fight back a fond smile. " _You don_ _'t need to be ashamed, poor darling. Dreams can be very convincing. Tell me more about it_." Loki knew how she'd felt in that moment. Sentiment. Connection. _Endearment_.

Now, the only thing twisting his stomach was disgust.

At least the revulsion was strong enough to drive him away. Back into his room, behind the closed door. Loki no longer felt like laughing. Well… that urge was still there, but it was only making him feel sicker. He shouldn't be laughing at a mortal like that. Fondly. He wasn't here to be entertained by them, or to feel sorry for their embarrassment.

He needed… distance. A distraction.

His computer presented itself. Loki cast a hasty spell to dampen any sounds from outside his room and sat down at his desk. The laptop lit up when he opened it, showing the last Wikipedia page he'd been browsing. The transportation networks of Midgard, specifically the United States of America. He'd wanted to find simple escape routes, like the bus system.

He picked up where he left off, studying the underground railway system of New York City. It was complex, and in some places the streets seemed to be named strangely. The numerical ones were easy enough to predict, but the ones named after famous mortals or the English alphabet often skipped or cut through in unexpected places.

It was difficult to concentrate on the lines and numbers, though. Loki had to call up his old training, pushing everything else out of his mind in order to make room for the map, each section clearly marked in his head like a puzzle until he was able to piece them together with his eyes closed. This, too, was a remnant from his youth, back when he'd wasted time (or, more often, had his time wasted) chasing Thor on an adventure when they both should have been studying. Thor never minded low marks as long as he could escape Odin and Frigga's consternation, but Loki _liked_ to do well.

 _Yes, a bit of disagreement has always rankled. Even from the mortal Captain_.

 _Not this again._ Loki placed his fingers along his forehead from temple to temple and pressed _hard_ , as though he could drive that voice back through physical pain. It didn't work. The Other, if it even _was_ him and not some perversion of Loki's own mind finally snapping its bonds, chose brief moments to chip away at him, and then it slunk back to the edge of his mind as the cloaked figure that awaited him after every nightmare.

And now it was reminding him of the argument with Steve; something he'd successfully avoided all day.

Trying to avoid it, still, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 2:26 AM. Two hours after he'd come back from the meadow. When he managed to focus on his studies, time could pass very quickly. But always, there were problems to face when he re-emerged. That much hadn't changed since his youth.

Loki eyed the bed, so close to the clock, and debated facing yet another of his issues that night. Sleep might help him focus. It hadn't helped lately, but he couldn't very well do without it forever.

 _Not tonight_ , he decided, giving into the dread. There was more learning to be done tonight, anyway. Midgard had that, at least. Plenty of excuses.

 _What excuse will you give Eleanore for embarrassing her?_ the kinder voice pressed.

Loki rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He didn't need an excuse. Why should he care if she was embarrassed at all? Let her sleep on it, as he had so many nights of his life, and emerge in the morning ready to face no apology, no acknowledgment whatsoever. It would be handy preparation for—

His cell phone buzzed. Lydia.

" _Hope I_ _'m not waking you up. If you're free, I have tea. If you're asleep, stay asleep._ "

Well. Between arguing with himself and arguing with an ill mortal woman, Loki would choose the saner option this time. He stood, telling himself it wasn't responding like a trained pet if he had the choice to refuse, and transported.

"I swear you don't sleep at all." Lydia grinned at him from her chair, looking so much like her daughter. If Eleanore were decades older, much too thin, and wasting away in a yellow robe and white pants and gray backless shoes.

Loki frowned at her. "Good morning to you too." He noted the IV back in place, and the trash can very near the chair with its extra bags handy. "I'll make the tea."

"Thank you," Lydia called over her shoulder as Loki moved about the kitchen, pulling teabags from their places and heating water in the kettle with a thought.

There was another green mug— larger, deeper green with gold along its handle— sitting next to Lydia's flowery one in the cupboard. Clearly meant for him. "Stop getting me gifts, woman," Loki grumbled. He'd be rude. He'd never thanked her for the decorations days before. He hadn't visited since then.

"Use a different mug, if you don't like that one. I thought it fit."

It did, damn her. Loki gave up— he'd had enough fighting for now, anyway— and placed a tea bag in the proper mugs. Poured steaming water over them. Added a spoonful of sugar to his and carried them to the end tables next to each chair. "Do you haunt shops, just looking for things to buy?"

"No, I look items up on the Internet when I think I need them. Although I did get the stuff for your room at a store, because I didn't want to wait for the two-day shipping. Do you know how to use the Internet yet?" Lydia asked, taking a sip of her tea.

"Yes, your daughter made sure I have a very thorough knowledge of it." Loki didn't bother to tell her he'd only learned a few days before. In fact, it was best to change the subject completely away from Eleanore at this point. "Are you forced to sit up all night with this bag and tube?"

"No, but I have trouble sleeping with it in. I always dream I accidentally pull it out." Lydia tapped the tape on the back of her hand with one thin finger. "I wake up trying to stop spurts of blood."

Loki frowned. This was too familiar, still.

"Sorry," Lydia said immediately. "TMI? I mean, too much information? Gross, probably."

"No, I've seen much worse than blood from one vein," Loki assured her. He decided he might as well tell her the truth, since it wouldn't leave his mind. "No, actually, I thought about Eleanore when you said that. I… well, she was asleep on the couch earlier and she spoke to me."

"Oh, sleep-talking? Yeah, she does that all the time. So do I." Lydia seemed perfectly comfortable with that. "Was she embarrassed when you heard her?"

"Yes." Perhaps he could avoid the worst part.

"Did you laugh?"

Of course, he couldn't avoid anything with the Engman women. "Yes."

Lydia chuckled. "She doesn't like being laughed at. She'll get over it, though. It's okay. Was it pretty funny?"

Loki took some comfort from the fact that Lydia wasn't offended on her daughter's behalf. "She must have been dreaming about a quinjet ride. She simply said something was wrong with the plane, and that I should have heard the message over the speaker."

"Oh, that's not the weirdest thing she's ever said. You'll have to let me know if the spider thing still happens." A fond smile, this time in its rightful place: a loving mother's expression. "When she was younger, we'd go camping sometimes, and Elle would be alright until she woke me up _every night_ saying there were spiders all over her pillow or on the ceiling, or right next to us. I always checked, and they were never there. The toughest part was convincing her she was dreaming."

It was too familiar, this discussion, learning about Eleanore's most vulnerable moments. Loki wished he'd never come back from the meadow. But he was here, now, and information could be useful. "How did you wake her up?"

"I just talked to her. I found that humoring her dream was the best way. I'd just say, 'Yeah, I see it,' and swipe my hand wherever she pointed."

He filed that away. A point of hope occurred. "Does she recall these occurrences in the morning?"

"Yeah, most of the time. She'll remember you, since she actually woke up." Lydia sighed to herself. "Oh, but enough about that. I bet you hated it, anyway. What else is new?"

Loki held out the hand not attached to his mug. "That question is broad. What do you want to hear about?"

"How are things going with you?"

"Things are… going." _Poorly_. Loki pasted an easy smile in place. "The attack this afternoon showed us more of the magician's skills."

Concern cast Lydia's face in shadow. "Yeah, I heard about that. Elle called while she was flying, actually, to let me know she was okay. Did you find any clues from it?"

"By the time I returned to the meadow, the magic was washed away by the rain."

"It works like that? Water washes it away?"

"Natural forces like water and wind. Sunshine, too, can dissipate the energy more quickly, though not as quickly as the first two. However, I didn't expect to find much trace of magic from this occurrence, anyway. Without any debris, and with the explosion so far off the ground, there was nothing for the power to attach itself to. I wonder if the magician knows this, or if they were just trying to lure the dragon closer."

Lydia drank her tea. "You think they were targeting Jet?"

"Well, your daughter isn't a very interesting magical source."

"Maybe not to you, but she helps keep the Avengers on their feet."

"That's true," Loki agreed. He'd already thought this through, sitting in the Tower and listening to Eleanore describe the attack. "However, she isn't very powerful. I think you were right before when you said the attacks may now be focused on me. The dragon, of course, would fit the mold for a powerful magical creature."

Lydia considered him over her now-empty tea mug. "So another attack could be coming."

"That is likely. You don't need to worry, though. I have protection placed on your— on Eleanore and the Captain." He corrected himself with Eleanore's name here, in front of Lydia. But he wouldn't call Steve by name; something rankled within him and left a bad taste in his mouth when he even thought of it.

"That's good. Thank you. I'm glad you're looking out for them."

Loki shifted in his seat, realized he was squirming, and forced himself to stop. He looked down into his tea, half-gone, cold and strong now. "You must know the conditions of my imprisonment. Don't thank me for keeping myself alive."

"But I'm glad you're alive," Lydia informed him with a smile that said she knew just how uncomfortable she was making him.

Loki didn't bother to scowl for show. This woman seemed to find a great deal of amusement in that. "You may be unique in all the Nine, then."

"Why do you say that?"

Too late to back out, now that those eyes were trained on him with the intensity she'd passed down to her daughter. Loki met her gaze; he knew what was true here. "I think many would trade my life for those I took before my imprisonment, at the very least." Perhaps not the Frost Giant lives; no one in the Nine seemed too concerned over their destruction as far as Loki knew. Thor hadn't mentioned them at all, though he'd certainly seemed keen on saving them after one three-day trip to Midgard. _Yet another reason to avoid Jane Foster, if she turns people that weak in such a short time._

"It's not your fault that happened. You were mind-controlled."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Absolve me if you wish, by all means." Kindness shouldn't be wasted on him; he didn't need it. He didn't want it. In some ways, the argument from the night before was welcome. At least Steve knew Loki for what he was, now. A monster, one who wouldn't dash off to save the innocent if he could possibly help it.

"You alright?" Lydia asked, concerned. "Did something happen?"

Loki decided that was more than enough perception from her for one day. "I'm perfectly fine. I will take my leave. Thank you for the tea."

"You don't have to go. I'll be mean." Lydia still grinned at her wry humor as Loki stood and set his mug aside.

He smirked. "I don't think you are truly capable of that." But he did reconsider his departure. He wasn't having a terrible time; he was simply tired and tense. He held out his hand. "Would you like more tea, then, if I'm to stay?"

"Yes, please. Thanks."

The kitchen offered distance and a break from scrutiny. Loki let his expression fall flat as he poured more water and heated it in the cups this time. Added new tea bags. When he carried them back, he thought of something else to talk about. "I haven't yet thanked you for your kind gifts. They are lovely."

"Oh, did you really like them? Good, I'm glad." Lydia smiled brightly with all the sunshine Eleanore usually displayed. "I thought it looked a little plain in there. Do you hang pictures on your walls on Asgard?"

"Not the same way you do; not framed," Loki answered. This was safe enough. "There are tapestries, and there are portraits. In the palace, artists are commissioned every so often when a room is redecorated. There are murals in some of the great halls, and others have hanging sculptures or large windows instead."

"What's your favorite room?" Lydia asked.

"The library." That was simple enough. The smell of books, the incredible halls dedicated to displays of magic. "There is a room in the library— one of the entrances, actually. It holds a… I think Eleanore would call it a model of the World Tree. Yggdrasil. I like the quieter sections of the library, but that entrance is very grand."

"I'm guessing models there are more artistic than the ones here?"

"Yes, it's an artistic depiction." Loki held up one hand and carelessly threw magic into the air. The shape of his memory formed in miniature.

Lydia showed more delight at the display than her daughter had, gasping and sitting forward. "That's amazing. Are those… those are planets."

"The Nine Realms." Loki guessed she hadn't seen much magic before. Darren didn't stop here often, as far as he knew. "There is Midgard in the center. I've heard your legends place you in the roots, but really you are simply below Asgard, around the same level as any of the others." This was why accessing one realm from another was so simple; they were on an even plane, and the portals could even contain signature energy if one knew how and where to look. Loki knew. Asgard was also connected, but it was much smaller and had far fewer branches attached.

"What's on top— oh, Asgard, I bet." Lydia _wasn_ _'t_ impressed with that. "Is this how it actually is, or is it a cultural thing, like Asgard is in charge so it's up there?"

"This is an accurate representation of Yggdrasil," Loki promised. "Legend says that Asgard was built to rule the Nine, and that is why the Bifrost grants unlimited access. However, I have also heard theories that Asgard formed from a great deal of energetic crystals that sloughed off during the formation of other planets."

"I can guess which version is more popular there," Lydia said wryly.

"Design is a more comforting story than accident," Loki confirmed. He set his magic in motion along the currents of the cosmos he could feel even in this small room on this talentless realm.

"Is Earth most dense? Is that why they rotate around us?"

That was a good question. "It's not a matter of density," Loki said slowly, trying to decide how best to explain this. "Niflheim, Jotunheim, and Alfheim are all much larger than Earth. Yggdrasil is shaped this way because… because it is. The Tree was formed before recorded history, connecting the Nine for ages."

"Hm." Lydia didn't seem satisfied with that explanation, but she didn't criticize him. "Is it formed because the planets are close?"

"Not exactly, though these realms are relatively close if you think about the vast distances of space."

"So it just randomly connected all of our planets? And only inhabited ones?"

Loki thought. "Life exists, and magic exists where there is life. Within their solar systems, yes, these planets are the only ones to sustain life, and therefore they are the only ones to have magic. Well, with the exception of Hel, but some say it once sustained life as well. Yggdrasil isn't so much magic as a connection of magical energy. Tunnels, I would say. Darren once referred to them as wormholes— a mode of transportation from one realm to another nearly instantaneously via the route magical energy takes at all times. Some schools of thought state that the more intelligent life a planet holds, the more magic energy it has and therefore the more magical creatures, but Midgard would be an exception as well because it is the most densely populated. But it wasn't always so, and Midgard has always been the center, so that can't be right. And then, of course, there is sentience and how much of a role it has…" He trailed off, fully aware of how technical and introspective his thoughts had become. Usually, people didn't let him drone on this long without interruption.

Lydia was listening, though. _Really_ listening, like Eleanore did. Or Steve. She didn't rush to speak when Loki finished talking, either, instead sitting back and taking a long, thoughtful drink. "Sentience?"

Loki nodded. "It's a problem your machines are facing. People like Darren and I can see the differences between one individual's magic and another's. We can tell how powerful someone is, where they have been recently. The sensors you have are reading magic as a great deal of any form of energy, because you simply haven't tried to quantify it before. And machines don't have sentience, so it is highly unlikely they will ever be able to track magic itself with any reliability."

"Huh. That's annoying, when we need to find this magician guy."

"It is." Loki didn't mind 'playing the long game' when his opponent was simply crafty, but this enemy was becoming bolder and possibly more powerful the longer they were forced to wait.

"Can you use any regular investigative tactics in the meantime?" Lydia asked.

Loki raised one shoulder and dropped it. "Eleanore is trying to find out where the source of their power is coming from. We have escorted a few more scientists to SHIELD to analyze the microbots and the corpses of Tiryaki's men."

"Do you know of any materials the magician might need? Anything like… like special supplies? A huge power source? Electricity, I mean, not magic."

"Mm. Perhaps. Darren and I have been looking into Midgardian metals and their relation to magic." Palladium was still the best element they'd found so far, but it wasn't helping the sensors any.

"We got this criminal called Al Capone because of his tax records. That's why I'm asking all these questions."

Loki nodded. "Was it dangerous to bring him in?"

Lydia's mouth quirked. "No, I… No, that was way back when Steve was alive. I was just saying we need to use every method, even unorthodox ones."

Loki appreciated the effort she was putting into not laughing at him. "I see. You're right, we should be looking at more than the obvious. I'll relay your suggestions to Eleanore if you'd like."

"Relay them to Steve. He still knows how taxes work, things like that. He might have some more ideas."

"Indeed," was all Loki replied. Eleanore could talk to Steve about this. Time to divert the conversation. "Have you heard anything from your family recently? How is the fence holding up?"

That spurred another half hour of discussion. Lydia spoke at length about her sister June, how the boys were handling their summer vacation without much work looming over their heads. Apparently, the twins had taken to building things around the house for fun between visiting their friends and doing the daily chores that surrounded livestock. Alan was working on the shell of an old motorcycle he'd bought, trying to get it running again even though June swore up and down that no son of hers would do such a thing while he lived under her roof. Zephaniah was taking over one of the basement rooms for a small biochemical laboratory. Cal and June were planning a vacation together for only the two of them for the first time in sixteen years. A Stark 'expo' was being held in Las Vegas, and Tony had given them tickets and accommodations.

"I don't know if they'll actually go," Lydia said with a shake of her head. "I wouldn't trust Alan alone in the house now, not when all his friends can drive. I bet they wind up asking Elle to stay there for a few days to watch them instead."

Loki wouldn't mind that so much. Open spaces after the city, and a much larger (if louder) house. But he listened as Lydia branched off into memories, of how Eleanore had always been the one to watch the boys and how they used to be an amusing trio before she moved away.

"Wow, it's almost sunrise," Lydia observed after a short story featuring the cousins, a saddle, and a very irate heifer. "What time do you go to work, usually?"

"I don't have a schedule, really," Loki replied, stretching his neck from side to side. It was time to face the real world, which held Jane Foster and Steven Grant Rogers and Eleanore Engman.

"Do you want breakfast? I don't have a lot here, but we could go get something… if I didn't have this." Lydia stopped in the middle of standing up and glared at the IV in her arm.

"No, thank you. Your hospitality has been most pleasant." Loki took the mugs to the small kitchen sink and returned so she could see the slight bow he gave. "I will consider your advice for finding this magician."

"You look very princely," Lydia complimented with a smile. "I don't know the appropriate response, but have a good day. And stay safe." She meant every word, and they were accompanied by a warm smile.

Loki took the compliment and left, transporting back to his bedroom. The door was still closed, the sound barrier in place, but it wasn't the prison it had been a couple of hours before. He switched the lamp on over his desk and sat down, pulling out his notebook. Even though his computer was useful for information, he liked the feel of paper and pen and writing things where no one could 'hack' the information without his knowledge. Loki set down a list of the ideas Lydia had laid out for finding the magician without magic, and then expanded upon that list with ideas of his own. He _would_ show this to Eleanore; she'd know what systems were in place for these measures already.

As the sun brightened the leaves outside his window, Loki pulled the sound barrier off his wall. It was still an hour before he heard any stirring, an hour he spent looking up Al Capone and his rather impressive criminal network during Steve's lifetime.

Finally, bedsprings shifted and slow footsteps shuffled into the main room and from there into the bathroom.

Loki emerged when he heard Eleanore come back into the kitchen. He needed to face at least one demon, and Lydia had said she wouldn't hold a grudge for laughter.

Sure enough, a very sleepy smile greeted him. "Hey, morning. Tea?"

"No, thank you." He came to a stop next to the kitchen and entryway's dividing wall as she turned the coffee pot on and retrieved a pan from the cupboard.

Eleanore pulled the carton of eggs from the refrigerator along with the uneaten 'Lunchable' from the night before. "Hungry?"

Loki wasn't hungry, because his stomach was rebelling with the awkward tension in the room. But, again, he refused to show any sign of intimidation. "Famished."

"Oh, I'll use the rest then." Eleanore took his light sarcasm literally and pulled three more eggs from the pink plastic carton and added them to the bowl. She grinned up at his sheepishly. "Oh, and sorry about last night. The embarrassment thing. I don't have as much control right when I wake up."

 _You_ _'re apologizing for my laughter?_ But no, she was apologizing for making him feel something he did not wish to. Even though he'd been the one to cause the embarrassment in the first place. Loki couldn't bring himself to say, 'Quite alright,' in this situation. He cast about, trying to find a way to lighten the mood and take them away from this topic. He lit upon her cooking. She was using his uneaten plate from the night before as an additive to the eggs. "What are the negative connotations associated with sandwiches?"

It worked. Eleanore's grin widened and lost its caution. "Sometimes, to shut women up when we're talking, men tell us to go back in the kitchen where we belong and to make them a sandwich."

Loki immediately pictured Dr. John Jacobsen saying that to Eleanore the previous afternoon when he'd questioned her authority on research direction. The thought made Loki chuckle easily. "What's the typical reaction to that?"

"I've only ever seen stunned silence or yelling."

"And which category do you embody?"

"Add a new one: sassy remarks. Also, I've thought about food poisoning."

"I'll keep that in mind." Loki took the plate she offered him and sat at the counter, as per usual.

Eleanore sat across from him after she poured a cup of 'coffee-flavored-sugar-milk'. "Did you find anything in the meadow last night?"

"Nothing but starlight. No robots attacked me, if that's what you're wondering." He bit into the eggs. They were good with the combination of meat and cheese, and he was hungry.

"I hoped you might let me know if that happened. I saw you had the baklava when you came back. What time was that?"

Loki assessed her. "Do you need to keep a log of every moment I'm out of your sight?"

Eleanore was confused but blunt. "No, no one's asked me to do that. Yet. Sounds like a lot of work. I was just asking because… I'm nosy, I guess."

"Mm, you and your mother both." Loki grinned to himself for that insult.

Eleanore didn't seem offended. "Yeah, I think we're pretty similar. Do you want to visit her today?"

"I already did, early this morning. We had tea."

"Oh." A slow blink. "Oh, is she on the IV again? She doesn't sleep well."

"Yes, she was." Loki pulled his notebook from the air and showed her the list. "She had some suggestions for your investigative methods, which might yield more results than useless mortal science trying to combine with magic."

Eleanore took the list and pushed her plate aside, sitting up on her knees with her elbows leaning on the counter. She still wore her usual bulky sleeping clothes, and her curling hair was pulled back into a twist secured by a large plastic jaw with brown and white teeth. "Hm," she muttered to herself, "I know we're already looking for shipments of the materials that the robots are made of. The problem is, their plating is a really common alloy. Large shipments go all over the world, including a couple factories just outside D.C. Steve and I were talking about doing some footwork to investigate the more suspicious ones, but we don't have a list of those yet… Maybe I can compile one today and we can get started. What do you think?"

Loki raised an eyebrow at her. "Compile as you please. I won't be accompanying the Captain anywhere today."

Eleanore shook her head at him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Loki was making her life more difficult, but that was just a side-effect. He didn't want to see Steve. He'd gone a lifetime suppressing his instincts, ignoring his own logic, hiding his true thoughts around those who disagreed with them. He steeled himself for an argument, wondering just how far Eleanore would push him.

She just sighed through her nose and sat back. "Okay. Will you go with just me?"

Loki blinked. She'd just adjust her plans so easily? "I will."

"Okay. Then we'll get Darren to go with Steve. I won't have this list put together for a while, anyway. I need to talk to Tony, actually. Give me two hours?"

"Yes, alright." That was all Loki had time to say, because Eleanore was already darting off the island stool, breakfast forgotten, heading for her bedroom. A moment later, he heard her talking on the phone.

"Hey, Tony? I need help getting a list of factories that just recently started receiving shipments of the microbot alloy. Recently, like three weeks. Thanks." Her voice and footsteps came closer. "Loki?"

Loki turned around and found her head sticking out of the door. "What?"

"I underestimated Jarvis. He's getting a list and some more parameters, so I'll be ready in about ten minutes."

"Very well."

Her head disappeared and Loki quickly finished the food on his plate. He banished Eleanore's leftovers to the trash and placed the dishes in the sink. Then he went into his bedroom and set about getting dressed without the aid of magic so his clothing wouldn't be infused with his energy. He chose to blend in with his white button-up shirt and black suit and tie. He could pass for a SHIELD agent this way. He _was_ a SHIELD agent, really, he reminded himself, tucking the badge into the jacket's inner pocket.

The weapons were a more pressing issue. Loki knew Clint carried a gun at his hip normally, but other agents had something on their shoulder that would go under the suit jacket. Though he likely wouldn't need the gun, it was best to keep up appearances. And the custom ones Darren had created _were_ very convenient.

"How's this?" Eleanore asked from his doorway.

Loki looked her over. A purple shirt for her with a tailored black women's suit jacket and black pants. Sensible black shoes without laces but also without the high heels some women wore. Her hair was pulled back into a complicated-looking arrangement low on her neck. A few curls threatened to escape, but they framed her face nicely.

"So you _can_ wear something other than jeans," he observed lightly. He thought she looked very nice, but not at all like herself. Too stiff and contained. Far too old for nineteen.

"Yeah, but I hate it," she replied with a shrug. "But… professional? What do you think? I also have work-appropriate dresses and skirts and whatever, too."

Loki decided to use some of her blunt honesty to see what kind of reaction he'd get. "Professional, yes. However, if you're going to try to seduce one of the factory workers for information, you won't do it looking like that."

She laughed. "I'm really hoping not to do that. But yeah, it's supposed to be hot today. I'll wear something cooler and pack this for if we go somewhere cold."

Loki adjusted his tie in the mirror, listening as she walked away and shut her door again. Satisfied with his own appearance, he made his way into the kitchen and downed a glass of water.

Eleanore came back into the main room, this time in a yellow buttoned shirt that reminded Loki of a late-afternoon sunbeam tucked into a dark blue wavy skirt that stopped just above her knees. White shoes with low heels tapped the floor. A light-brown leather satchel swung from her shoulder and a small black bag hung from her hand. "Still not trying to seduce anyone, but I think this will make whoever we talk to think I'm younger."

Loki swallowed the rest of his water. "Very disarming. That's fortunate, because I don't expect you've hidden any weapons under those clothes."

Eleanore tapped her hand against her leg. "Thigh holster. One for a gun, one for my asps. You have anything?"

"In my typical hiding place."

"Cool. Hope we don't need them. Although, I guess I hope we do, because that would mean we found the magician. Mixed blessing. You ready to go?"

"Yes, if you've condensed your medical supplies to that, somehow. And if you aren't bringing the dragon."

"We're taking the Avengers quinjet. There's a med pack in there. Jet's sleeping off our flight from yesterday."

"Then lead the way, Lady Eleanore."

The walk to the gym was, thankfully, short and uneventful. Loki kept glancing around, wanting to see Steve if he was approaching. He found nothing except unfamiliar faces. The gym was deserted and the simply climbed the three flights to the roof, boarded the jet, and took off.

Loki sat in the cockpit this time with Eleanore. The display showed five locations on their route so far, all in North America.

"Darren's out at a conference today," Eleanore commented as they soared higher, "so Steve is working with the kids at the lab."

 _Good for Steve._ Loki said nothing aloud. He knew they had a couple of hours to their first stop, as the plane's route would guide them from one factory near the West Coast in a zig-zagging line back to D.C. If Eleanore was going to try to force a reconciliation, she had time.

"I know you don't want to talk about it," she began slowly.

"You're right there," Loki interjected.

" _But_ , I just want to say… I think you both had a misunderstanding. Okay? You were trying to say I shouldn't feel bad for not going to that shooting, and Steve took it the wrong way, and you reacted to his tone. I'm not blaming anyone. But we're going to have to work together again really soon, so we need to figure this out."

Loki listened because there was really nowhere to avoid it, and because he was aware that this was the same woman who'd faced down Jane Foster and Maria Hill yesterday on his behalf. Eleanore was right about the intent behind his words the night before, and he could see the misunderstanding as it unfolded. But he wasn't a child, and he wasn't going to listen to lectures any longer. Not from self-righteous, blond heroes. "I've heard you. And I don't want to hear any more."

"Okay. Thanks for listening." She returned to tapping on the route display, then pulled a tablet from her satchel and started reading through it. "First one's a… Ew. Chicken processing plant. They started receiving new machinery at the beginning of May, but their production is really low. And they haven't fired or hired anyone in three weeks. Weird for such a big operation."

"Will the 'big operation' speak candidly about such matters?" Loki asked, glad of the change in subject.

"We'll have to pretend to be inspectors, I think," Eleanore said thoughtfully. "If we're really tracking the magician in these places, top-secret government workers probably won't open any doors."

Loki stared out the windshield. "I'll call upon my extensive experience with chicken processing, then."

"What experience?" Eleanore asked.

Loki turned his head to the side. Apparently, when he wasn't outright lying, she couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or not. _Interesting_. "Asgard's princes had to be involved on every level of the realm's wellbeing, even agriculture."

"Oh. What kind of butchers do you have?"

"Magic ones. The hides and feathers just fly right off." Loki made a sweeping motion with his hand, wondering how long he should keep this ruse alive.

Eleanore narrowed her eyes at him. "You're laughing at me again."

"You make it very easy to do so." Loki did chuckle, but he wasn't harsh. "Of course I know next to nothing about chicken processing, especially here."

"Well, I'll believe you if you say things like that, so be careful with it." She handed her tablet over, pressing play on a video that showed machines taking poultry apart. "That's what their machinery should look like, I think."

"Truly enchanting." Loki handed the tablet back after a glance. "Let's just act official enough at these places to get inside the door. With as much power as the magician uses for these attacks, I should be able to sense him from quite a distance."

Eleanore bent her head over the tablet. "Might be a woman, but okay. We've got this chicken place, then a car factory, then a mine, then a construction company, then a place that makes tools."

"I've worked my way into many more heavily-guarded places."

"Yeah, you seem pretty experienced with bullshit."

Loki turned his head sharply, hardly able to believe his ears. "Teasing _me_ , Lady Eleanore? Are you certain this is a path you wish to take?"

"If you keep smiling like that, then yes. And you started it, with the story about princely butchering."

Loki _was_ smiling. It had been a while since someone playfully insulted him, and since that insult hadn't led to fighting. He wouldn't be the one to push this instance. He settled back into his chair in silence, thinking over the morning. From speaking with Lydia to this trip. He still couldn't believe Eleanore had conceded to excluding Steve so easily. And she still wasn't forcing him to apologize for the argument the night before. Of course, Loki had nothing to apologize for, but that hadn't stopped others from demanding his humility in the past.

"So, palladium?" Eleanore said into the silence. "How's that working?"

Loki spent the rest of the flight talking to her about it. Explaining, mostly, because this mortal had very little experience with the element. She asked intelligent questions, though, and insisted on clarification when she didn't quite understand what Loki was saying. Did Asgard have anything like palladium? Was there some better magic element there? Would gold maybe work for sensors instead? It was relaxing, cathartic.

Unfortunately, the flights were the most productive part of the long, arduous day. Not one of their list of suspicious places contained the slightest hint of magic. Loki worked hard, talked them into every room in ever factory. Eleanore's smile and laugh got them a tour of the mine shafts. The construction company was located on the outskirts of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, so she spent a while there as well, talking about unfamiliar— to Loki— towns and even family acquaintances, but the company had ordered a couple of machines to expand their business, not to kill any civilians. Even so, they were invited to have supper with the owner's family, which both Eleanore and Loki declined. By the time they reached the tool factory in Virginia, they were prepared for the disappointment that met them. No magic, nothing suspicious at all. Just a couple more machines to replace two that broke at the same time.

At least, Loki reflected as he settled back into the cloaked quinjet, working with someone who knew the value of some harmless lies was convenient. They'd complimented each other today, one stepping in when the other lost their way. Eleanore had a way of making people trust her effortlessly, and they wanted to do more for the pretty young woman with the winning smile than they would have for a man alone.

Loki had used his charm on the one female manager they'd spoken with at the car factory, and he'd used his no-nonsense commanding mask to order that trip down the mine. It helped that Eleanore softened that command with an apologetic smile and small talk. And it helped that she complimented the woman manager's sense of style (nonexistent though it was).

"That could have gone worse," Eleanore finally commented as they landed on the gym's roof. "We didn't eat lunch. Want to go get something for supper?"

Loki looked her up and down, from the oil spot on her yellow sunshine shirt to the black grime on her formerly white shoes. "Where are you planning on going, dressed like that?"

"I was going to change my clothes, and then take you to an Italian place. We can scrounge something up at home, though, if you want."

"You don't tire of Italian fare?" Loki asked, already agreeing in his mind.

"I'm always a slut for pasta," Eleanore said. Then she laughed at his shock. "It's a cultural joke, kind of. One someone my age would get."

Loki recovered easily. "Let's get some promiscuous pasta, then."

Steve's apartment was silent as they changed into more casual clothing, and his motorcycle wasn't in the parking lot. They took Eleanore's car through the darkening streets. It was nearly eight o'clock at night, but the sun was still casting the western sky in green-blue-black gradients.

"This is a chain restaurant," Eleanore said, parking in a large lot in front of a brick-fronted building that bore the sign 'Olive Garden'. "Chain means they have locations all over the place. You can find these in Des Moines, New York City… basically anywhere people like some quick comfort food."

It smelled delicious from the outside and even better inside. Eleanore encouraged Loki to sample the wine the waiter offered, and he got the chance to use his wallet to show his I.D., which said he was born in 1984.

"There's an age restriction on wine?" Loki asked when the waiter left them to decide on their food.

"Twenty-one," Eleanore replied. "Not just wine, all alcohol."

"Children drink wine on Asgard," Loki informed her.

"They do in other countries on Earth, too. Just not here, so much."

The menu was helpful. It had descriptions of the food and even some pictures. Loki asked Eleanore a couple of questions about the different types of pasta, since he only knew ravioli and lasagna now, and he decided on the chicken parmesan when she leaned forward and whispered that the lasagna was not like her family's recipe _at all_.

The waiter brought them a large bowl of salad with delicious dressing and some 'breadsticks'. Loki could have eaten the salad alone, but the bread was also very good. He slightly reconsidered his opinion of Midgard as 'backward' when the waiter brought them two more bowls of salad and Eleanore informed him it was free with the meals at this restaurant. The mortals had _some_ acceptable innovations. First the salad with freshly-grated cheese and then the two forks rolled into the cloth napkin, one for the meal and one for the 'appetizers'.

"Want to try mine?" Eleanore offered when their food arrived. She'd gotten cheese and mushroom ravioli with garlic cream sauce— a custom order that the waiter wrote with care.

Loki did want to try it, but he didn't want to return the favor. "No, thank you."

"Okay, but it's really good."

The chicken was good as well, though Loki found that he did prefer whatever tomato substance lurked in the Engman-Hansen lasagna instead of this sauce. He asked what the difference was, and the dinner was spent with Eleanore listing the lasagna recipe step-by-step, starting with making the pasta by hand and ending with fighting Alan and Zephaniah so they wouldn't eat all the mozzarella cheese before it was added to the top of the dish.

She didn't finish her plate, but the waiter was prepared with a 'to-go' box and the bill. Eleanore paid and left a tip, which tipped Loki off to the practice. "Twenty percent normally, but I did thirty because he was so courteous."

"Are they not paid wages?" Loki asked once they were outside the building and surrounded by warm night air.

"They do, but it's not a ton. I used to be a dishwasher, and… yeah. It's not the best job. Not great pay. But it's alright for something temporary. I did that when I was in high school. Do you want to walk around the park?" Eleanore asked as they came to a stop near the car and she placed her bag food in the back seat.

Loki peered down the road. The park was probably a mile across; the walk would be a long one. The night was pleasant enough, though. "You've had worse ideas."

They set off across the street and turned north to follow the park's outside path. It was lined by white street lamps, and entertainers honed their craft on some of the corners.

Eleanore went quiet as they walked. Loki glanced down a couple of times and found a despondent frown etched into her features.

Bitterness welled up. He'd been foolish enough to look forward to this, to enjoying a meal in good company. But he'd forgotten how even good company could wind up dissatisfied. "You shouldn't have exerted yourself for this outing, if you're so troubled by it." _By my presence_.

Eleanore blinked quickly and looked up at him. "Oh, am I not talking very much?"

Perhaps… perhaps she wasn't dissatisfied after all. Bitterness receded like a wave, replaced by tentative curiosity. "Are you engrossed in such heavy contemplation?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. I was trying to figure out how to resolve this thing you and Steve are in."

 _Bitterness it is, then_. Loki stopped walking abruptly, which made her skip a step in surprise. "You should have chosen the Captain as a dinner companion. He might be more inclined to help you."

Eleanore gave him a 'what-are-you-talking-about?' look. "I'd be quiet with him, too. You're both stressing me out."

They probably were. Loki started walking again. They were about a third of the way through, and it would take a while to reach the car again anyway. He wasn't irritated enough to transport away from her here with night fully fallen. "Perhaps you'll remember what I said at the beginning of the argument."

"You're both worth my time," Eleanore countered with an amused grin and a shake of her head. "But you're right; we're out to dinner and I should be more present. Did you like the food?"

Loki let his gaze wander over a mostly-empty, colorful children's playset as they passed it. "It was sufficient." He wouldn't say it wasn't as good as her cooking, or her aunt's.

Eleanore huffed a small laugh.

Loki looked back down. "What?"

"You're funny. I could tell you liked it."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Etiquette."

"It was a poor attempt."

"Better than no attempt, in this case." A woman approached from the opposite direction, pushing a cart that contained a small child. Eleanore stepped behind Loki so they could pass with plenty of room.

Loki noted that his companion had fallen quiet again when she caught up to his side. He knew she was troubled by this discord, but he wouldn't be the one to help her out of it. However, he disliked witnessing melancholy. "I suppose etiquette would dictate I ask you an inane question now."

"Or any question," she retorted with a grin. "Or you can remark on something. Or I could say how much we sound like this book called _Pride and Prejudice_."

"Or I can thank you for the unnecessary conversational guidelines." Loki shared the grin to let her know he wasn't irritated. "Did you learn such things in your university?"

"No, it was an inherent developmental trait impressed by society. One of those things you know without knowing you know it. Will you teach me that knife thing?"

Loki blinked. "That was an abrupt departure. What 'thing' are you talking about?"

"All of it, basically. You can hide them, or flip them. I don't get how you throw them so the point sticks."

"Practice," Loki answered automatically. "Centuries of practice. Time you don't have."

"I bet I could learn _something_ ," she insisted.

"Why do you want to know that?" Loki asked. "Your mortal guns are more reliable for your purposes, since you lack the strength to strike the blade through armor. And you don't have any knives of your own fit for throwing."

"Mmph." Eleanore acknowledged his logic with a dispassionate grunt, though she didn't look satisfied with the answer.

A monstrous motorcycle blasted past.

Loki flinched, though he minimized the reaction so it would barely be visible. Eleanore, though, covered her ear with a grimace and muttered curses at the cyclist under her breath.

"Are you sensitive to sound as well as emotions?" Loki teased once the bike thundered away.

"You didn't like it either," Eleanore pointed out.

"I don't understand those contraptions," Loki complained, not acknowledging her observation. "Why ride something so conspicuous, with so little protection?"

Eleanore grinned. "Considering my behavior, I think you're asking the wrong person. They have good gas mileage. I don't mind the quieter ones, although… it seems like such a waste to own something you can only use for like six months out of twelve."

"Are there legal restrictions?" Loki asked, imagining a 'quiet season' for half the Midgardian year.

"No, it's just too cold and snowy to drive them. Here, anyway. And in Iowa it's usually colder. You could probably handle it, but someone like me would go hypothermic from the wind exposure alone unless we wore special gear. And the two wheels would make it easier to fall over in the slush…"

Loki half-listened, but he was trying desperately not to show much reaction. First, he'd been surprised that Midgardians could handle such apparent extremes of weather. And then, " _You could probably handle it..._ " Simple enough words, or they would have been _before_. _She meant nothing by it_ , he assured himself hastily as the horrid voice of the Other started hissing closer and closer.

"Huh. I didn't know busking could be that popular."

Loki refocused. They were walking along a busy street, the park to their right. Eleanore was on Loki's left, mouth quirked in curiosity. Ahead, perhaps four hundred feet away, Loki could see the path diverging until it was separated from the road by a line of trees. Just in front of those trees stood a crowd, gathered around something in a circle. The crowd numbered perhaps twenty-five people, though Loki did not count the small children scampering around their parents' legs or riding on their shoulders. There were only five or six of them, anyway.

"Want to go see what that is?" Eleanore asked.

" _You_ clearly do," Loki replied. He wasn't averse, himself. A few of the street entertainers harbored some shred of talent. This one must be phenomenal to retain an audience.

They walked closer. Eleanore strained to the tips of her toes every few steps, trying to get a look at whatever-it-was. Loki found the sight comical, so he let her keep trying even though he couldn't see what sat in the midst of the people with his great height advantage. The only real sounds were the laughs and scattered applause from the audience.

"Maybe it's a mime," Eleanore suggested, partly to herself.

Loki tried and failed to find any meaning from that with the Allspeak. They reached the edge of the crowd before he deigned to admit it. "What is a—"

Whenever he looked back on that moment in the future, he couldn't recall anything specific. Loki lost time in that instant. One second, he was looking down at Eleanore, asking her something. The next, he was looking _up_ into the bright white light of a streetlamp while waves of sluggish, discolored power ebbed and flowed around him.

Sound registered on the heels of sight. Screaming, mostly. Mortals appealing to their deity, feet rushing past him in both directions.

 _Eleanore?_

Loki turned his head and found sensation next. Pain. His joints crackled, and his breath rushed into aching, empty lungs. Worst was the back of his head. It sent bright sparks into his vision whenever he moved, and his eyes had trouble focusing.

He soon forgot the pain, though. More important than that was the (blurry, but unharmed) mutant woman dashing toward him, trailing fading tendrils of his own green-gold magic in her wake. Wherever she stepped, the ugly power receded, borne back by the spell that protected her.

Eleanore dropped to her knees and pressed a glowing hand to his chest. "Good, you're not too hurt," she said abruptly.

Loki opened his mouth, trying to find some witty retort out of habit. But words left him as he looked behind her.

The strange thing was, as many battlefields as he'd seen in his centuries, this was more confusing. Women and children lay sprawled next to men. Their limbs lay at odd angles. Those furthest away— closest to whatever the event was— weren't moving at all, and Loki's mind mistook them for the statues mortals stuck in clothing stores, all bent and broken from some accident.

That illusion was shattered by those who lay on the outskirts of the crowd. They were crying, moaning, dragging themselves to nowhere…

"Loki, can you stand up?"

Eleanore's voice brought him back to immediacy. Loki met her (unscathed, wide, troubled) eyes. Then he noticed he was still lying on the ground, propped up on his left elbow. Everything in his body felt better. He could see properly again. He hadn't even noticed her healing this time.

"Yes," he replied shortly, showing that he could.

"Okay." She left, setting off for the calamity again at a run.

The magic-coated calamity.

Loki followed and caught up to her in three quick strides. His spell of protection was still woven around her as strong as the day he'd placed it. It explained without words why Eleanore wasn't among the dying and injured. And her Avengers status explained why she was one of the few people moving with a purpose around the scene.

She paused on the edge of the re-gathering crowd, pulling out her phone. "We need to keep the injured people from moving," was her offhand comment before the blue lines appeared on the screen. "Jarvis? It's bad. Send all available rescue units, and alert SHIELD to get down here with whatever help they can gather." Eleanore didn't wait for the AI's answer, stuffing her phone back into her purse and shoving the entire package into Loki's hands. "Can you store that?"

He sent it away. It wasn't an order; even in the midst of this crisis Eleanore was treating him like an equal. "How should we stop them from moving?"

"Stop the bystanders," she instructed him. "They're already screwing things up. Make them quit dragging people away, have them use jackets or whatever to brace their necks on either side. I have to get to the critical ones."

Loki wasn't about to leave her side. "I'll go with you."

"Can… can you heal?" she asked, sounding surprised. "I didn't know you could."

Loki ground his teeth. This deficiency rankled. "I can protect you."

"Your magic already did that. Stop the bystanders, please? I won't be far." Eleanore patted his arm in what she must have thought was a reassuring manner and started through the crowd, yelling instructions at unhelpful, panicking civilians.

Loki listened to her instruct several people at once on how to properly position a prone form for clear airways. He decided that he would keep her in sight, but that he truly would be more helpful doing as she'd asked.

He began shifting among the chaos, putting on his most professional, dispassionate mask. These bodies were hopelessly mangled; it looked like they had no bones at all in some limbs. However, many of them could still shriek, and shriek they did, which further incited panic from those trying to help them.

There wasn't much to be done on a personal scale; not in any haste. Loki instead called upon his magic and formed duplicates (these clothed in armor but without his helmet). He magnified his voice and repeated Eleanore's instructions. "If you are trying to aid these victims, then do not move them. Instead, brace their necks any way you can so they can breathe properly."

People were startled, but they listened. Everyone stopped trying to drag bodies away from the spiderwebbed concrete epicenter of the blast, where magic was still dissipating. This kind of power would stick around for a long while, barring any weather events. SHIELD and the Starks would have a data treasure trove.

Loki formed more doubles as barriers and set them to instruct more commoners to stay away from the victims as emergency vehicles screamed toward the scene. He ignored them, for the most part, and focused on finding Eleanore again. This sluggish, ugly power was making him nervous even more than the mangled bodies.

He found her working her way through the incoherent victims, speaking reassurances loudly enough for those nearby to hear her. She seemed to be holding up alright; her power shining like a star against the sludge she couldn't see. She was only healing enough to sustain life, mending torn insides and re-forming bones until they were reasonably whole, if weak.

Eleanore noticed his approach and glanced up at him, then returned to healing a man's intestines. Loki could see her magic at work through the clothes and skin. "Are you okay?" she asked, moving on to another prone form. This one, another man, was visibly breathing, though his features were slack.

"Me?" Loki confirmed. When she nodded he said, "You healed _me_."

"Good. Thanks for doing the directing. Can you guide some of the EMS people when they get here? It sounds like they're close."

They were. Sirens and bright lights approached through the other traffic, which was backed up to a standstill, pulled to the side of the road.

"I can," Loki said. "Are there any they should focus on first?"

"I haven't had time to do triage; can you help with that? Anyone who's got a head or spinal injury or internal bleeding should get loaded up. If anyone's really critical, call me over." She moved on to yet another person, this one an older woman. Eleanore barely touched her before standing again. No signs of life.

Loki glanced around. He could use his magic like a sense, as she was doing. And he could do it on a larger scale, as well. He extended invisible— to the humans— power, closing his eyes and concentrating. Eleanore was there, safe and whole and bright. Uninjured civilians were healthy red spots. The dead were simply gray outlines, and the victims' injuries lit up as their life force drained away.

He found many 'critical' cases; too many for Eleanore to ever cover. Recalling the typical signals of color Midgardians liked, he set a small red light over each of those whose life was quickly ebbing. Yellow was for the ones who could wait, many of whom were fully conscious and describing their injuries and what they had seen (not much) to anyone who would listen. And green was for the ones who could walk safely, who were kneeling next to some bodies and weeping with fear and sadness, or wandering aimlessly until they were redirected by one of Loki's doubles.

"Oh, wow," Eleanore breathed, standing and taking in the scene.

Loki opened his eyes and surveyed his work as well before looking back down at her. "Red is for the ones who need you most."

Shining brown eyes made him feel like… like Thor looked, sometimes, when he'd saved the day with some reckless scheme. " _Thank you_ , Loki."

He felt Eleanore's approval and gratitude in a warm, genuine wave. But, unlike Thor, Loki knew how little he'd done. He shrugged her gaze off and turned his back. "Save your energy for your work. I will provide the same directions to the emergency responders."

She didn't reply, but her emotions turned back to grim focus before they withdrew entirely.

Loki added a condition to his light spells so that those red ones would turn yellow once they came into proximity with Eleanore's magic. Then he turned his attention to the lumbering vehicles making their way to the edge of the sidewalk.

Yellow-green clad men and women tumbled out and began running toward the scene. Loki stilled his duplicates and made them transparent so that the workers would have no trouble recognizing him as real. He met them about ten feet from the start of the bodies, and his eyes found a familiar face immediately.

"Loki?" Spencer Cross asked incredulously. "What the hell happened here?"

"You know this guy?" another man asked.

"He's an Avenger," Cross informed them quickly.

Loki accepted that title for the light of respect that entered the mortals' eyes. "So I am. Focus your efforts on those with red lights above them; they are dying most quickly. If you come across anything worse, contact that woman." He pointed. "Eleanore. She will heal those most in need. That is what she's doing now."

"What is she?" one of the people asked. A woman near the back of the group, just as a man asked, "Is that Eleanore _Engman_?"

Loki recognized the caution in those questions. Too late, he remembered her secret identity, now shattered irreparably. She'd known this would happen sooner or later, but now she would be forced into the open. Most of all, though, he took issue with the woman's tone, which asked, ' _Mutant?!_ '

"She is an Avenger," Loki supplied sternly, recalling how Steve used the title to extend his implied protection over Loki when strangers questioned him. "One whose expertise you'll do well to trust."

"Come on guys, people are dying." Cross took the lead, hauling his gurney past Loki.

The others followed. A few eyed Eleanore, but they still listened when Cross approached her and she began handing out technical-sounding directions. Loki kept track of her even as he turned his attention to the law enforcement now gathering around the edge of the crowd.

"I heard you say 'Avenger'," one man said, walking right up to Loki, already out of breath from exertion and yelling, his dark blue uniform and hat speckled with badges and technology, weaponry at his belt.

"You heard correctly," Loki answered him.

"What are we looking at here? Is evac more important than treatment?"

The Allspeak translated 'evac' to 'evacuation' in an instant. Loki glanced around. "I sense nothing lingering that will pose a danger to your people. I think you should focus on treatment."

"Got it." The man spoke into a radio on his shoulder. "All units, give me crowd control and traffic clearance along major hospital routes." He turned away an instant and Loki thought he'd go back to his fellow mortals to aid them, but then he held his hand out. "I'm Captain Statler."

Loki shook the hand quickly. "I am Loki of Asgard. I work with the Avengers."

"That what she is?" Statler asked, nodding at Eleanore across the clearing pavement and bustling bodies.

"Yes." Loki watched her a moment. Her power was still holding up well enough, though it was less plentiful than before. She darted over the ground easily when Cross motioned her over to an unconscious, young man who wouldn't last five more minutes if Loki was any judge. Eleanore laid a hand on the man's chest and fixed several fissures in his spine, then stopped and slightly reversed the rapid loss of life until it ran steady and dim through the body once more. With a couple instructions for the man's care, she moved on.

"I'll tell my officers to listen to her, too, then," Statler, commented quietly, bending his head to his radio speaker again. "All units, be advised: The female with white… er… glowing hands is also an Avenger. Follow her instructions as well, and refer larger orders to me." He finished the message and straightened, shaking his weathered head. "Twenty-two years on the force, I thought I'd seen everything."

Loki kept watching Eleanore, noting that he could now predict how much power she'd use on each case with reasonable accuracy. This human's time working in law enforcement had lasted longer than her entire life. Then, when movement drew his attention, he noticed several white vehicles approaching without flashing lights. "What are those?"

Statler cursed. "God damn reporters."

Loki recognized the bright lights and the cameras and the attractive, microphone-wielding annoyances edging ever-closer. Already, one of them was pointing at Eleanore, although they probably couldn't see her very clearly from such a distance and with her back turned to them. "I will block them, then," he decided aloud.

"How? A… like a wall?" Statler asked.

"More or less." Loki started figuring just how permeable the wall should be, and how he'd set its intent to let only medical and law enforcement personnel through. The problem was, more and more emergency responders were arriving by the moment, and there were few common traits among all of them. Loki couldn't have the wall read their minds.

"Won't that block our people?" Statler pointed out.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Loki demanded, more harshly than he meant to. Time was running out.

"Let my boys try." The older-younger man spoke into his radio once more. "Jones, Leeds. Start barricading the reporters. Send them away, and get the vehicles out of the road."

This time, the radio responded. " _Got it, Cap._ " Two blue-clad officers converged on the nearest reporters and started blocking them back from the scene, arms outstretched.

That would work for now. Loki nodded to Statler, who apparently carried the same unofficial title as Steve did. "Well-chosen. I'll leave you to it, then."

"Anything else I should know?" Statler called as Loki started to walk away.

Loki looked back, but he was distracted by the whirring of a quinjet off to the side. He inclined his head in that direction. "Listen to these mortals," he offered, "they'll have more official ideas than I will." He altered his course to meet the plane.

It landed in the park in a clearing two hundred feet from the scene. SHIELD's large black vehicles also began pulling up behind the ambulances and the smaller striped cars. From the quinjet emerged Agents Maria Hill, Clint Barton, and Natasha Romanov, along with other nameless agents carrying various pieces of equipment. Hill and Romanov approached Loki, but Barton split off and led a couple of agents over to Eleanore.

"This targeting you?" Hill asked as soon as she was within reasonable speaking distance.

Loki nodded, glad his professional mask was in place. The smell of death was beginning to permeate the breeze. "The magician at work."

"You get hurt?" Romanov asked.

Loki couldn't resist a bit of bitterness. "Would you not rejoice if I answered yes?"

"Not if Eleanore was hurt too," the Spider answered honestly.

It was easy to grin at that. "She was protected by my spells."

Both woman eyed him. Hill was the first to speak again. "So, you're… what? Organizing?"

"I was," Loki said steadily, "but you are welcome to the task. Captain Statler, there, seems to be in control of mortal law enforcement. Excuse me." He left, happy to flee their presence under the pretense of checking on Eleanore.

She was much dimmer, worn down by effort. Taking a break from healing in a cleared patch of ground, talking to Clint, rubbing the thumb of her left hand over the wrist of her right. Most of the red lights were yellow now, and those that were not were being carted away by Cross and his associates.

"Just like yesterday, with the noise and the lights," Eleanore was reporting to the older man who'd abandoned his bow for two backpacks and a simple gun at his waist. "I didn't see much because of the light. But I was the only one standing up; even Loki got thrown back. It was just pure blunt force trauma, looks like. It has to be magic, though. I haven't asked Loki about it yet."

Her back was to him, so Loki spoke up as he approached. "It was magic. The magician, to be precise."

Eleanore shifted so she could see him, crossed her arms, and sighed. "Figures. Did you see anything?"

"Nothing," Loki said, unwilling to admit he had _another_ lapse in memory to account for.

"That's enough for a field report," Clint decided. "Elle, you two get back in action. Here." He handed one of the backpacks over. "We based the contents off your official bag."

Eleanore took it in her left hand. "Thanks." She looked up at Loki. "You with me?"

 _For lack of a better option_ , the spiteful voice retorted. Loki hushed it. "Of course. Lead the way."

"I was actually hoping you'd do that. Can you point me at the worst yellow lights?"

"All of us," Clint added.

Loki closed his eyes, taking another quick inventory. "None of these people are actively dying, but… some of their bones are pulverized. Barton, you'll do best to help those toward the outskirts of the circle; they only have breaks. Eleanore, I'll lead you to those with the most damage." He'd give her more power as they went, up to a point. It was a bit dangerous, but if he didn't do it she would keep going until she was as terrible as she had been all those nights ago at the Tower after a day of reconnaissance, occasional healing, and the awful crushed man.

"Got it. Let's go," Clint bade the agents behind him. He led them away again, toward the people with limbs that were only bent unnaturally, not curved and gelatinous.

Loki took Eleanore toward those. First, and worst, were a few near the trees. They had been very close to the event, but they'd been protected by the corpses and the critical who had already been taken away. This was one of the main sources of shrieking, now that medics were working with the rest of the circle. Before he pointed out her first patient, he touched a hand to her shoulder and transferred a small amount of his energy very carefully to her body.

"Oh… oh my god. Thanks." Again, the eyes and the waves of gratitude.

Loki was more gracious this time. He met her gaze. "I should only do this once, for now. I have no idea how it will affect your mortal body."

"Seems pretty effective." Eleanore crouched next to an unconscious man and quickly healed his pulverized arm and foot and fixed the slight damage to his insides. " _Really_ effective."

Loki pointed to a young woman whose screams were growing quieter as she lost her voice. "Start there."

Eleanore followed his eyes and knelt next to the woman. She touched a silver-tipped finger to the woman's forehead, and then that particular yell was silenced. The victim's head fell back, unconscious.

"She'll thank me for that later," Eleanore explained, turning to the misshapen arm and leg. "God, the bones are the worst."

"They require more of your power?"

"No, they just crunch." Eleanore demonstrated this, biting her lip and releasing her magic into the woman's body. The bones in her arm mended first, and the noise was sickening. Then her leg, which was louder and therefore worse.

"Can you do a green light here?" Eleanore asked when that was done. "Then they know all she needs is a bed to recover in."

Loki changed the color with a flick of his fingers. "Next, this—"

"—Please!"

A cry rose above the rest, just off to Loki's left inside the tree line. He'd been drowning them out before, but this one was from a child.

"Mom? Please, someone help my mom!"

Since he hadn't heard the cry before, he suspected another trap. "There," he bade Eleanore, pointing to the next-worst casualty. While she was distracted, Loki made his way over to the shadows where he belonged.

A little girl knelt next to an unconscious woman. She was pulling on the woman's hand, despite her own broken, twisted leg. They both lay at the base of a tree behind some shrubs as wide and tall as Loki was. The woman's back was bent oddly, and she looked like she had taken most of the impact with the tree. The girl was only scratched. Her broken leg was the result of her mother's body landing on it, not the explosion.

Loki's heart and stomach both tugged at him in very different ways. He forced himself into logic. _Don_ _'t move the woman, don't move the girl._ No dangerous magic covered them, nothing lurked in the background. Loki looked back over his shoulder. Eleanore was very close, still, next to a quieting teenager. Loki called out to her. "Eleanore, here."

Her head jerked up, and she made her way over. Loki watched as sympathy and worry creased her expression. "Oh, hi hon. I'll help you, don't worry."

"Help my mom," the little girl demanded. She couldn't have been older than a decade. Blonde, tiny, in a pink and blue frilled shirt and jeans that were now covered in her own blood.

"Loki, flag down some paramedics," Eleanore said, moving forward.

Loki moved to do that, glad to take his eyes off of the horrific scene.

"Actually, come here." She changed her mind in a quick, tense moment.

Loki turned around and found her grim expression, already familiar from the myriad of other bodies she'd examined.

"What?" the little girl asked. "Why does he need to come here?"

"Because I'm going to fix up your leg real quick," Eleanore informed her with forced cheer. "You can squeeze his hand as hard as you want, okay? This will hurt, but only for a minute."

"What about my mom?"

Loki could help with this. "Lady Eleanore needs space to work with your mother." The lie came so naturally, along with an easy smile. He knelt beside the girl and held out his hand. "I'll help her lift you, and then she will have enough room."

The girl accepted this; the alternative was too horrific to bear. She took his hand and squeezed.

"What's your name?" Eleanore asked, glowing hands hovering above the protruding bone.

"Alissa. Steward. Alissa Steward."

"Alissa, I'm Eleanore and this is Loki. Would you mind if Loki kind of holds your leg? I don't want it to move accidentally."

"Okay." This in a quiet, shy voice.

Loki kept his smile, kept holding her hand, and reached his free one to hold Alissa's leg just below her knee. "Have you ever heard of Asgard?" he asked, just as Eleanore was beginning.

Alissa started shaking her head. Then she shrieked as the pain registered, but by then the skin was sealing over perfect bone. It was the quickest healing Loki had ever seen.

"Okay, take her," Eleanore said shortly, turning to crouch over the woman again. "Carry her; she'll be close to shock."

Loki had no idea what 'shock' meant, but Alissa willingly leaned into his arms, so he stood and turned his back so those blue eyes couldn't see a beloved almost-corpse any longer. He carried her out to where the bodies were hopefully unfamiliar, instead, where the paramedics could take her somewhere brighter and safer.

The girl wasn't speaking. Loki found distance when he glanced at her. The small blonde head thudded against his chest with every footstep. Asgardians called this battle fatigue. Steve had once used the term 'shell-shock,' which meant much the same thing. Asgardian warriors were sometimes sent home to recover from it in times of war, but Loki had never seen a case in person. Usually, the only ones left alive on the battlefield were those of Thor's party.

"'Lissa? Alissa?"

A man was rushing toward them, clutching three pieces of street vendor food in one hand.

The little girl woke a bit. "Dad?" She squirmed in Loki's arms and reached out for the parent she had left alive.

Loki handed her over willingly. At least she still had one parent left.

"Where's Mom?" the father asked confusedly, glancing up at Loki and finally dropping the food on the ground. "Do you know where my wife is?"

Loki purposely stilled so he wouldn't betray the body's location with a look or a sign. Eleanore was still there, and that must mean she was still trying to save the woman. "Take your daughter to the ambulances. She needs care."

The man's face morphed from confusion to shock to disbelief. He looked down at the girl in his arms. Slowly, his head began to shake.

Now, both the parent and the child were displaying signs of battle fatigue. Loki was annoyed; the man hadn't even had confirmation of his wife's death. He should be trying to keep his daughter safe, not jumping to conclusions. But Loki had also been trained for how to deal with a warrior in this condition. " _You must speak clearly but softly,_ " Eir instructed him from the past. " _Talk to them, not about them. If possible, give them something to focus on besides the battle until you can get them to safety._ "

Loki reached out and laid a hand on the man's shoulder, giving him something to focus on. "I know that medic," he said conversationally, pointing to Spencer Cross who was just loading another gurney into a waiting ambulance. Cross, thankfully, met Loki's eyes and started walking when Loki surreptitiously waved him over with his free hand. "He will see to Alissa. You should stay with them, mm? I will find you with any news I have."

"Al— alright," the man conceded.

"Loki." Cross greeted him, coming to a stop next to the man.

Loki put on another confident smile. "Spencer Cross, meet Alissa Steward and…?"

"Morgan Steward," the man, Morgan, said.

"Alissa may be experiencing some shock," Loki continued in a friendly voice. "Perhaps you have a place these two can rest?"

"For sure, for sure." Cross nodded and patted Morgan on the back, drawing him away as he spoke. "We're setting up some waiting tents with lights and water. Follow me, I'll show you."

Loki strode away as soon as Morgan was no longer watching him. Worry started gnawing at his chest. Eleanore had been in those trees far too long, compared to the amount of time she'd spent on the other healings.

She was still there, though, when he got back. Still knelt next to the mother. Her power was fairly drained, and she was dimmer than before Loki had given her assistance.

"What are you doing?" Loki demanded irritably. He'd spent some of his energy helping this mortal, and she'd wasted it on a corpse?

Eleanore shook herself and stood, her arms wrapped around her body. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," Loki bit out.

She nodded. "I know. I had to try, though."

She had to try… to save a mother's life. Because this woman had had a daughter who needed her.

But it hadn't worked. The woman's eyes were open, now, and she was truly dead. Whatever life force had been left had faded, though now her back looked whole again. She'd probably faded under Eleanore's hands.

It was… understandable. And not worth a fight, since his mortal wasn't denying her mistake. Loki bent and closed those eyes— the eyes this woman had bequeathed to her daughter— and laid a hand on Eleanore's back as Cross had done to Morgan Stewart. He gave her a bit more power— he had plenty to spare, after all, because he wasn't doing anything _useful—_ and checked her over for any signs of a poor reaction. She was hale and whole, though her body was leaking the energy more quickly than usual, especially through her fingertips. They needed to be done with this soon. "Let's go. The rest I've seen are simple injuries. You'll make short work of them."

She nodded and walked ahead of him into the open again. Loki pointed her at an older man who was clutching his arm quietly, and she healed him in an instant.

They went this way for a while. Loki caught sight of Steve's colorful uniform once, but he purposely ignored it and challenged himself to find not the worst but the most painful injuries for Eleanore to focus on. Broken or crushed limbs, mostly. A few people had cracked ribs, either from the force of the explosion or their rough landing in its wake. Loki helped her hold them still when they were panicked, but otherwise he simply shadowed her. He felt useless, following a mortal around as she did all the work, but what else could he do? SHIELD's incompetent agents were already pointing equally worthless equipment at everything they could find. He'd give his report when this was over, and perhaps they could find some recorded evidence of the attack to make sense of it.

"Where'd Alissa go?" Eleanore asked him as another patient ambled away.

Loki looked around and pointed to the square, white-curtained tents marked with the blue medical snake-and-staff symbol. "There, I think. Her father was uninjured, so I sent them with some paramedics."

"I'll go tell them what happened, then. They don't know, do they?"

Loki shook his head. "I gave them no false hope, though."

"No, you did great," Eleanore assured him. "Thanks for helping Alissa while I fixed her leg. And for… everything."

Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Let's get the unpleasantness over with before you delve into baseless gratitude, shall we?"

Eleanore's face fell even further. "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"I'm worthless here," Loki pointed out. "I may as well be worthless where I can keep you alive."

Eleanore shook her head at him. "You're not worthless," she contradicted quietly. But she didn't start a real argument as they walked over to the blue shelters. Loki searched for Alissa's small form, still carrying a hint of Eleanore's healing magic, and found her and her father in the tent on the far end.

Morgan stood from his place on a collapsed gurney as soon as he caught sight of Loki. "Did you find her?"

"Eleanore helped her," Alissa said then, loudly. "I told you and _told_ you, Dad."

Loki realized his comment about false hope had been a lie. He had given the little girl no reason to think her mother was beyond Eleanore's healing powers.

And Eleanore was already hunching in on herself, like she was preparing for a strike. "Mr. Steward? Um… would you like to talk outside?"

The father and daughter lost hope at the same time.

"You were helping her," Alissa insisted, quietly now.

Loki felt a stab of guilty grief from the woman at his side.

"I tried," Eleanore said, "I'm so sorry."

Alissa's face crumpled. "You were helping! You needed room!"

"What happened?" Morgan asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Eleanore shifted uncomfortably. "It was an explosion of some kind… I'm not really sure. From what I can gather, your wife was a little bit closer than Alissa was. They were both thrown back, and her spine hit a tree. I'm sorry."

Again, Morgan settled into battle fatigue. Alissa, too, stopped accusing them with her eyes and started crying.

This was… awkward. Loki wished he'd have thought to come here by himself, because he would have given the news and left the room. Eleanore was still here, still looking on at another problem she couldn't fix.

"Let's go," Loki said for the second time that hour. Like in the trees, he placed a hand on Eleanore's back and guided her out of the tent ahead of him.

She went, impassive as a statue. The rest of the injured had been cleared, now, so all that were left were a few bodies. Paramedics were zipping them into bags one by one. The noise around them had gone from cries of pain to raised voices asking endless questions.

Clint Barton approached them, Steve not far behind him. "Hey, we gotta get out of here. Reporters already have videos of you helping, Elle. They're all looking for you."

Loki glanced around. Over the official ruckus, he could hear those flat, informational voices yelling into their microphones. _You got your wish after all, Captain. We_ _'re right in the center of a senseless act of violence_.

"Here." Clint was holding out a hooded shirt. "Tuck your hair in here, and try to walk behind us. We'll head to a car and go to the Triskelion for a real debrief." The agent turned to Loki as Eleanore donned the pitiful disguise. "We'd ask you to take her, but we think it's best to have as little magic as possible here."

Loki did roll his eyes at this man, but he knew he was only following orders. "In that case…" he withdrew everything from the scene. His doubles vanished, the lights above the bodies winked out. Loki only left his spells on Eleanore and Steve untouched.

"Come on, Houdini," Clint replied, unimpressed. "Fury wants to get the full story."

So Loki found himself walking beside and a little in front of Steve, forming a living barrier between Eleanore and the cameras as they made their way into the road and boarded one of the large cars.

"You two alright?" Steve asked as soon as they were seated— He and Loki in the middle two seats and Eleanore in the back. Clint rode 'shotgun' with Natasha driving.

"Yeah," Eleanore said. "Loki's magic worked again."

"Try not to sound too excited by that fact," Loki teased, trying to lighten her mood. She was sunk low, now, after facing Morgan and Alissa. Wallowing in guilt over something that wasn't her fault.

"What happened, exactly?" Steve asked next.

"I told Clint, it just looked like a flash to me. A loud flash. I couldn't see until it was over. Then Loki was behind me quite a ways, and everyone else was on the ground too."

Loki let her speak. He was still angry with Steve, and his mind easily supplied a myriad of offhand, argument-starting comments. _Do you have a passion for showing up to a tragedy too late? Are you satisfied, now that Eleanore and I have aided such a worthless cause? Did you ignore your cell phone again?_

But he didn't say anything like that, figuring Eleanore wouldn't appreciate more stress. And, truly, he was glad Steve hadn't been there. Watching over Eleanore had been difficult enough without Captain America dashing about without his shield.

And Steve seemed content to focus on questioning Eleanore. How many people had she healed? Was she hurt in the explosion at all?

"No, I didn't even feel it," she said. "I'm fine from healing, too. Loki gave me a boost of energy."

The car was quiet. Loki felt everyone considering him, from the blank-faced Natasha to Clint, who turned around in his seat and looked him up and down.

"Better than coffee?" was the archer's question.

"Way better than coffee," Eleanore promised.

For a moment, Loki was worried she'd thank him again, in front of these people. But she only gave a small grin that passed over everyone in the car. It was an acceptable alternative, Loki thought. Seeing that death hadn't pulled the sun out of her smile.

 _Sentiment_ , the nasty voice whispered.

 _Understanding_ , the annoying voice retorted, sounding irritated enough to be Loki's own thoughts.

They reached the Triskelion before those voices could start an argument of their own.

This time, the room Fury gathered them all in was small and somewhat comfortable. It was located on the twentieth floor, amid a great many other similar rooms. A clear glass table was lined with ten cushioned chairs. The lights were a warmer shade of white, almost the same as the lamps back in Eleanore's apartment. A large screen hung on the farthest wall from the door. The dark windows overlooked the river.

Fury sat at the end of the table just below the screen. Natasha and Clint took seats near him. Eleanore sat next to Natasha and Steve sat next to her, so Loki took the empty place beside Clint across the table.

"Initial reports said you two aren't injured," Fury began, leaning back in his chair. "I've heard you can't really describe what happened."

"It was too bright," Eleanore explained, yet again.

"Walk me through what you know," Fury commanded. "You first, Engman. Step-by-step until the event."

Eleanore leaned forward, forearms on the table, her left hand rubbing her right wrist again. "Loki and I ate dinner, and we decided to go for a walk around the park. Everything seemed normal to me. There were a couple of buskers out, so when I saw a crowd clapping I thought one of them was doing something really cool. We walked over to check it out, but I couldn't see over everyone. The whatever-it-was happened when we reached the edge of the crowd. Just a flash, like I've said."

"Anything to add, Loki?" Fury asked. His tone, for once, wasn't accusatory.

Loki shrugged. "I couldn't see over the crowd, myself. They were packed tightly, and there was a clearing in their center for whatever was entertaining them. I saw and felt nothing strange, but the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back along with the rest."

"The rest except me," Eleanore added. "Loki has this working on me— on Steve too, I think— that prevents other magic from messing with us. That's why the explosion yesterday wasn't too bad." She frowned. "Was there a robot? Do we have footage of anything?"

Loki noted her correct magical terminology. _So she does listen._

"We do." Fury pressed a button ingrained into the table, and the screen behind him lit up. The director of SHIELD rolled his chair back and to the side so he could watch as well. "Play the security camera from the bank," he ordered nothing in particular.

The screen obeyed, opening with an image of the unbroken sidewalk from across the street. It was empty, except for the pedestrians. One of these— small, nervous, wearing a large coat and a wide-brimmed cap— stopped and unslung a backpack from her shoulders. She opened it and placed a silver box on the ground. Then she left, leaving the open bag and the box alone.

A few seconds after she left the frame, the box shimmered and shaped itself into a tiny robot that might reach Loki's knee.

A tiny, familiar robot.

"Were we scanning for these?" Clint asked.

"We were, but we didn't catch the image until right before it happened," Natasha replied.

They fell silent again, watching as a couple stopped walking to look at the robot. The man pulled out his phone and began taking pictures as the robot started dancing around. Its movements were smooth, more natural than the ones Loki had seen fighting Eleanore and Steve over Tiryaki.

A few more people gathered, and the robot transformed one of its hands into a silver-plated flower. The delight of the audience drew more, and they packed closer. Occasionally, one would throw some coins or a dollar into the open backpack.

Loki recognized some of the faces from those Eleanore had healed. He found more and more familiar ones as they gathered in a milling, excited crowd. But most familiar, and most gut-wrenching, was the mother and daughter who approached from the left side of the frame.

Alissa was tugging on her mother's hand. The woman— Loki realized they'd never learned her name— laughed and went along, politely apologizing for her daughter when she tried to push through to the front of the crowd. The strangers let her through, widening the circle. The two of them were lost in the crowd, their blonde heads resurfacing now and then as even more people gathered.

Loki glanced directly across the table and found Eleanore with one hand over her mouth, the other clenched into a fist on the table. Her eyes begged the screen to change.

Loki quickly looked away. The robot was still visible to the camera; it was close enough to the road and the parking meters that the crowd was formed in a nearly-complete circle that excluded the curb. It was still dancing, lifelike in miniature. From time to time, it would reform its arm or its leg into something that sparkled. A dog, a star. It performed acrobatics, which extracted cheers from the audience at regular intervals.

A few of the people did wander off, set on some errand. They got away with their lives, smiling from the spectacle, talking or typing on their phones.

Loki's jaw locked when he and Eleanore entered the screen. He frowned at their figures. So close and casual, unguarded. The camera wasn't clear enough to make out their expressions, but Loki could see when his attention diverged because of her motorcycle comment, and when he returned as she pointed out the crowd. They walked closer, each trying to catch a glimpse of the show. Loki saw his own head turn as he started to ask Eleanore what a mime was.

The robot exploded. It was, as Eleanore said, a flash. A blast threw the crowd back with such force that they didn't really hit each other— they were evenly spaced based on where they'd been standing. Loki saw himself fly a couple of meters, saw his head hit the concrete.

The flash cleared, and then the camera readjusted to show Eleanore alone standing among the bodies, covering her ear with one hand, the other held out as if to block something. She straightened and turned in a half circle until she found Loki, and began running for him.

"Stop footage," Fury ordered. The screen went black. He rolled his chair back to the head of the table. "Thoughts?"

"It was trying to get me," Eleanore said immediately.

Steve shook his head. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

"Two explosions, common variable: me."

"You may be right," Loki said. "However, there's another common variable: each time you faced an attack, you were in the company of a powerful magical creature."

"You think I'm a coincidence?"

"It seems to me that a novice magician would target those similar to themselves, to learn from them. I don't see anything that would draw them to you, other than the fact that you were there when the dragon and I were exposed enough for the attempts."

"You think they're trying to take down their biggest threats?" Steve asked.

"Possibly," Loki replied shortly.

"You guys are forgetting about the hospital attack," Clint pointed out. "They were clearly trying to get Cap there. He's not a threat to the magician, is he?"

"No," Loki said smugly. "However, the magician was working with Tiryaki, then. Now, they seem to be a free agent."

"Who dropped off the robot?" Eleanore asked suddenly.

"Our techs are working on a face," Fury informed her. "Looks like a woman, though. White, adult. She knew how to hide from the cameras."

"Was it Lucinda from the hospital again? It looked about the right height and build. And she was dressed a little better."

"Good lead, but we won't know for a couple of hours. We're looking through cameras near the event, trying to see where she ended up."

"Do you think Tiryaki knows anything about this?" Steve asked.

"Hasn't shown any sign of it," Natasha reported. "We had someone interrogating him again when this went down."

"Bastard just kept saying how much he wanted to see the world 'made aware,'" Clint added. "Same old, same old."

The conversation didn't get much more productive after that. Fury tried some questions again. Loki explained what the magic had looked like to him, and even provided a visual of the disgusting mess oozing around the scene. That didn't seem to clear anything up for the mortals; they'd known this was the magician, anyway. Fury asked whether this gave Loki and Darren enough information to find the bastard, and Loki replied that it did not, since the robot was more like a bomb than a spell sent from one body to another.

Eleanore described the injuries and how Loki had helped her heal them. Again, nothing the SHIELD agents wouldn't find out for themselves.

"We need you three here tonight," Fury decided. "I know you're tired. We'll put some cots in a conference room next to the lab, and we'll bring you some clothes. We have to get in front of this."

Loki snapped his teeth shut and said nothing. Eleanore, next to him, was so exhausted she could barely stand without assistance. He'd be trapped with Steve and those idiot children all night.

"We'll get to work," the Captain promised. He led the way out of the room and to the elevator.

Loki followed behind Eleanore while Romanov and Barton stayed behind temporarily to talk over the logistics of a manhunt for the small female 'mule'.

The elevator seemed to move more slowly than normal. That, Loki knew, was just because he wanted to leave it before Steve started talking about truth, honor, all that was righteous.

"Thanks for your hard work tonight," the man out of time said instead. "Both of you. I know it would have been a lot worse without everything you did."

Loki remained perfectly still, staring out the glass partition as they rose through the night. This was an apology; a subtle one that made no mention of the argument or the blame. SHIELD would never know, but Loki knew. His eyes focused on Steve behind him. One hand holding the support railing on the elevator, the other still carrying his helmet.

Loki remembered every word of the argument the night before. He recalled his sense of betrayal as Steve's disapproval turned on him. How Eleanore had said they were fighting over nothing, a misunderstanding. He could believe it more now. Loki was, for all intents and purposes, on the same side as Steven Grant Rogers. And he knew, now, exactly what sort of horrors Steve had been remembering as he said every life mattered. Loki had those memories too. Alissa and Morgan Steward and their nameless loss. The name mattered, in the end, about as much as the original argument. _"What about my mom?" "Where's my wife?"_ _"You were helping her!"_ A woman was dead, and she'd left her family behind. Someone had killed her. Someone else, Eleanore Engman, had tried to save her. Loki would try to help the latter and stop the former while he was fettered here.

"I don't think we're supposed to say, 'you're welcome,' but I can't think of the right response," Eleanore replied drowsily, her voice cutting through Loki's thoughts.

"We'll get you a place to rest," Steve promised. He met Loki's eyes in the glass. "We'll get this figured out."

Perhaps they would, Loki thought as the elevator came to a stop. In any case, he knew now he'd rather work with two mortals who valued life to a fault than one who destroyed so recklessly. Another piece of his internal puzzle fell into place. He'd figure it out: first who the magician was, and then who Loki himself wanted to be.

 **A/N:** _ **Hopefully less of a wait than last time! I've been working on this one for a long while, and also trying to complete the 50,000 word challenge for NaNoWriMo with my friend. At least this got done, I guess.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thanks! It's always great to hear from you! I'm really glad you liked it. Writing Elle and Loki is always fun for me, especially from Steve's 'I-didn't-sign-up-for-all-this' perspective. I hope you liked this chapter as well!**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **No temper tantrum yet! Or at least, not that Loki and Steve saw**_ _ **. I'm proud of Loki, too. He's trying.**_

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews; I love hearing your thoughts!**_

 _ **Thanks,**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_

 _ **P.S. I don't own any of the brands mentioned in this story! I only own my original characters. Thanks to Marvel and a bunch of other companies for making great, relatable cultural icons that can be included in this story!**_


	31. Chapter 31: S Acceptance

After tonight, the media would be on another one of those 'cycles' Lydia had told him about, and Eleanore Engman would be the focal point. Steve had heard it in the reporters' tone on his television as he'd rushed to don his uniform— that strange mixture of excitement and caution. How they hesitated to confirm her identity, but kept showing pictures of her in fancy dresses on the red carpet with Darren, or out somewhere in more casual clothing. The lady behind the desk had even said, "Something no one ever suspected…" Like Elle's genetics were a crime.

Steve thought about this now, in the bright-dark contrast of the lab, because his teammates were here. He looked them over. Elle was fading fast now, gulping water and looking like she'd fall asleep if she sat down. She was somber, a sharp frown in place of the usual thoughtful expression she usually had here in the lab. She answered Cecil's questions quickly and listened as the earnest young man described the preparations he was making for analyzing the footage before, during, and after the explosion. Apparently, SHIELD could pull data from cell phones, which had been filming the robot's performance at convenient angles.

Loki was… something else. He was meeting Steve's eyes, now, anyway. It was tough to figure out what the demigod was thinking, but at least there was that much contact. And Steve saw him considering the room, too, and the lack of many of their scientists. He didn't bring attention to it, though. Those blue-green eyes flickered to Elle, then met Steve's for an instant. He was intense, but that was nothing new. Then Loki's face transformed into a professional, no-nonsense mask and he started questioning Cecil on the research accomplished that day and what sensors had been dispatched to the scene.

"The cots are in the conference room across the hall," Hill reported, walking into the room. "We've got standard gear in there for you."

Steve nodded to show he'd heard her. Hill wasn't apologetic for the incident yesterday morning, but she hadn't pressed when Steve reported that Elle and Loki would be out in the field for the day on Avengers business. And having whoever needed a rest on the same floor would be convenient, anyway. "Are the Starks on their way?"

"They won't show up for a while. They stopped by the scene to get readings with their newest prototypes."

"Oh." Elle reached for her phone in her back pocket and came back with nothing. She turned in a quick circle, confusion knitting her brow. "Shit, did I… No, wait."

Loki, still next to her, pulled her purse from thin air and handed it over with an arched brow. "That won't be a regular occurrence," he informed Elle and the assembly at large before he walked away and sat down at a desk where the lights met the shadows.

"Yeah, thanks though," Elle said absently. She finally opened the messages and took a few steps toward the door, reading through them slowly. "Yeah, looks like it'll be a couple hours. I'll tell Darren to wake me up when he gets here." Hill followed her out.

Steve would ask Darren not to do that for a while, unless the Starks stormed in with something groundbreaking. A couple hours' sleep wouldn't be nearly enough after everything Elle had done tonight. Right now, he was just thankful she was going to rest of her own volition. Hopefully she'd be able to sleep, so she could be ready for their next move as a team.

But now that she was gone, and now that Cecil was heading off to another desk, Steve could talk to Loki. He walked over and stopped a good, respectful distance away. "You need some rest, too?"

"I barely participated," Loki replied, still fairly distant. That could be the effect of the Triskelion, or he could still be angry.

Probably both, Steve guessed. He chose his words carefully. "Those lights were a good idea."

"Yes, to separate the dead from the dying."

Steve backed off, figuratively. It wasn't fair to press Loki into something personal when he'd seen so much carnage, anyway. He shifted his weight onto one hip and toyed with one of the pouches on his belt. "So do you think we can use this to catch the guy?"

Loki blinked at him. "I would have apprehended him already if that were the case."

"I know," Steve assured him. "Just asking if you have any new ideas."

"I have an idea that the death toll will rise further the longer we wait. I need to see the imagery again to make more assumptions."

"Alright. I'm sure it's on these computers somewhere. Anything I can do?" Steve asked. He fully expected a negative response.

Loki eyed him and tapped the fingers of his left hand against the desk. "Jane Foster would be useful," he decided aloud.

It could be a joke. Loki liked to tease, sometimes. But he looked so serious… "Are you… really?"

"Really. Though it is amusing to see your brain malfunction." A smirk that turned dour in the blink of an eye. "She will be useful in analyzing the energy data from a mortal perspective. I don't expect she'll work with me, but perhaps a Stark or two, mm?"

Steve lowered his voice. "I'll see what I can do, but won't that bring a visit from Thor again?"

"Yes," Loki began calmly, "it likely would, if I were in close proximity to her. I don't plan on being in the same room. I'll fight Thor if he seeks me out, make no mistake about that, but I'm not going to seek him out. I can see his mortal's utility."

Steve decided his shield would always be within reach until this magician was caught. "Alright," he agreed, finally. There were so many ways this could go wrong, but so many reasons to do it. If Loki wanted Jane Foster and no one else, then Jane Foster it would be. "I really will try to get her on this project," he promised, "but I think don't know that we're going to have such an easy time convincing Elle."

Loki smiled for an instant, and that smile was genuine. "I can be very convincing. Especially when I think how amusing it would be to see them argue again."

That _was_ a joke. Sort of. Steve grinned, glad to find something worth salvaging out of this horrible night. "I'll go talk to Elle first, then Hill. You good here?"

Loki gave him a look that said, _I'm fairly certain I can handle myself with you just across the hall_ , and turned his attention to the computer.

Steve took that as a dismissal and made his way out of the room. Cecil was already on his way back to Loki. The dark-haired man liked that particular scientist alright. They're be good company for each other.

This time of night, the hall was devoid of the normal murmurs from behind closed doors. Steve knew there was sound-proofing in place, but there was only so much SHIELD could do for sliding panels. They compensated for this with white noise from speakers set outside occupied doors. The only active ones were the lab behind him and the tiny conference room in front of him.

Inside, there were three cots. Actual cots, like the Army, but black instead of olive drab canvas served as a tiny, tightly-strung hammock. Black blankets, too, and crisp white pillow cases, and the metal sides that Steve knew his shoulders wouldn't fit. Elle sat on one of these, clothed in black SHIELD sweatpants and a gray zippered jacket, legs crossed as she hunched over a tablet. Maria Hill, professional as ever, stood next to the small table with her arms crossed. They'd been talking before Steve walked in.

"Find something?" Elle asked him blearily.

"Not yet," Steve said. "You were supposed to go to sleep, anyway."

"Okay, Mom."

"We're discussing options for the research team," Hill interjected quickly.

 _The research team? Does that mean new scientists?_ What did they need new scientists for? Were they additional, or was the 'kids' absence purposeful because they weren't on the team any longer? But Steve didn't feel like asking for an explanation from Hill; he wanted her to leave so he could talk to Elle alone. He moved over and sat next to Elle to look over her shoulder at the tablet. She tilted the screen so he could see a bunch of small paragraphs and some hand-written documentation. "Who are we looking at?"

"Well," Hill began, "going by character references and psychological tests, we've narrowed it down to a couple of people: Dr. Salfield and one of our veteran researchers, Agent Stan Hughes."

"I was going to email you about this," Elle said, handing the tablet over.

 _So it's just these two?_ Steve scrolled through Agent Hughes' file. Words like traditional, focused, direct, cooperative jumped out from paragraph after paragraph of praise. Hughes had started with SHIELD back in 1981, working on small projects surrounding the Cold War. From there, he'd moved to the study of artifacts, where he'd been for about thirteen years. "Looks like a good fit on paper."

"Well," Hill said again, "I'll leave you to it. Let us know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Eleanore said as the terse agent walked out the door. When the door shut, she took the tablet back. "I think he will be a good fit. Hope so, anyway. I haven't met him."

"I haven't met most of the people here," Steve pointed out.

Elle just nodded and went back to scrolling.

Steve read more along with her, and thought about how he should bring up Jane Foster. Maybe he shouldn't even do it tonight. Maybe he should see if Fury would allow Dr. Foster's involvement first. Elle probably had a lot on her mind. She had to know her identity was compromised. And she thought the magician was targeting her. "How are you doing?" Steve asked first. She'd be honest because she liked him to be honest as well.

"Mmph," she responded with a shrug. "Watched people die tonight, so not great."

"You saved a lot of people, too," Steve pointed out. It probably wouldn't make her feel any better— it never helped him overcome the knot in his chest that whispered 'You could have done more!'— but it was true.

"Loki did triage for me." That comment was made purposely. Elle raised her chin and gave him a challenging version of the look. 'See?,' her expression said, 'I was right about him.'

Steve knew she was. Immediacy, it seemed, was the determining factor. More importantly, Loki's actions proved he was decent. Not just neutral, not forced into heroism, but helpful when people needed him. He'd even held Elle's purse, for crying out loud; something a lot of men might have complained about under the best of circumstances.

They were under surveillance in this room (Clint's lessons had been very clear on inconspicuous 'bugs' all around) so Steve just held out his hands. "I'm glad he was there." _I'll keep this in mind_ , he thought at Elle, hoping she'd understand.

She seemed satisfied, sitting back and scrolling through more notes on the tablet. "I think this new team will be a better fit. We had numbers before, but no real production."

"Our other team was reassigned?" It was easy to believe. SHIELD had a myriad of people available. Still, Steve thought the hunt for the magician warranted more than two regular staff.

"They weren't a good fit," Elle said again drowsily, still looking at the tablet. "You and I can collect some more people as we get to know them. Maybe Loki will find someone else he likes, other than Cecil."

There is was: the perfect opening. Steve shrugged into his diplomatic mental state and cleared his throat. "He… already has a suggestion."

"He does? Oh, Darren won't work for SHIELD full-time."

"Not Darren."

"I don't think we could get Bruce here much either."

"Not Bruce." This was going to be messy. "He wants Jane Foster."

Elle's head shot up, and clear shock and disgust splatted her face like a clown's joke pie. "Jane Foster?!"

"Loki said she would be useful for examining the energy. She's had experience with magic before, too."

"Like when she smacked Loki yesterday? Yeah, no."

That was a pretty rational reaction, for as tired as Elle looked and as angry as she'd been the previous afternoon. Still, Steve had made a promise. "She's the expert. She'd believe in magic, too," he pointed out quickly, drawing up all the reasons why it would work.

"She slapped him."

"He didn't seem to mind when he asked for her specifically. And we wouldn't have them work directly together. I think Loki was talking about sharing data over the network."

"Well, it's a bad idea." She slouched back and hit her head against the wall. "And you're on board with it. No surprise there."

"Hey," Steve protested, not hurt by her words and a little amused by her resigned tone, "I've jumped on board with your ideas, too."

"Yeah, the crazier the better. You're such a Gryffindor." Elle tilted her head to the side with a huff and a friendly smile. "I like you, though. Enough to make you talk to Maria about bringing Jane back here."

"I was going to do that, anyway," Steve said, inwardly grinning at how much Lydia and Eleanore sounded alike. "I should have put it in an email. Better to ask forgiveness?"

"From them, probably. From me, no. It's a do-as-I-say-but-not-to-me situation." A long, deep inhale, jaw working. Eyes closed. "You people are going to turn my hair gray. You'll want to talk to Maria in person, too. I bet she's in her office. Thirty thirty-five. thirtieth floor, I mean, then office thirty-five."

"I know," Steve assured her. The drowsiness had crept back into her tone gradually. He pointed at the tablet. "I'll go now. Mind if I take that?" He took it before she could think too much about the action and headed for the door. "Get some rest."

"Don't tell me what to do," Elle mumbled in passing. It was something she said as a joke once in awhile, usually to Lydia or Darren. Steve took it as a sign of exhaustion and acceptance. Her eyes followed him to the door. "What are you doing now?"

"Talking to Hill first. Nothing exciting. I doubt they'd let us out of here if we tried, at this point."

Elle pressed her fingertips to her forehead. "We have to find that person who dropped the bag off."

"We will," Steve promised.

"And I should be helping."

"You'll help a lot more if you're awake." It was tough to stay stern on this issue, though. Steve knew exactly how she was feeling: awkward and useless and weak, letting others do the work she normally handled. He relented a bit. "I'll keep you informed, alright? I'll wake you up if right away if something interesting happens."

He could see the instant Elle gave in. Her shoulders slackened and her neck bowed. She reached up and took her hair out of its bun and rubbed a hand through the tousled curls. "You'd be a good mom, Steve."

He smiled. "Thanks. Let me know if you need anything. I'll have my phone on loud."

Elle grinned, teasing. "Charged?"

Steve didn't rise to the bait. "Yeah, charged. Unlike you, right now. Night, Elle."

"Night."

Steve left the room and headed for the elevator again to swipe his card for extra clearance. Loki had probably heard that whole conversation anyway, white noise or not. At least he'd know Steve was trying. And at least he wasn't trying to involve himself with those quick words that could cut so deeply in such a short time. Steve had a hunch that requesting Jane Foster's involvement would go a lot more smoothly if he represented the team on his own.

The thirtieth floor also housed Fury's office, some very official conference rooms, and a small small satellite room where upper-level sting operations were carried out by the Director or Hill. This was new information, gained from Clint that afternoon.

Right now, the floor was empty. Hill's office was the only one with a closed door. Steve knocked and the panel slid aside. The white noise machine clicked on as he passed it.

Hill greeted him formally as ever from behind her desk. "Captain."

"Agent Hill." Steve could be official, too, despite his informality within his team. It was an asset when dealing with a government agency. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"I have…" Hill checked her watch, "… all night. As long as you don't mind being interrupted by calls for damage control."

"I don't mind." Steve took a seat in one of the thin metal chairs in front of her desk when she waved a hand in that direction. "I understand our team is being reshuffled."

"Yes, we're hoping you can make more progress with people who fit better with your particular teammates."

"I have a suggestion, then."

Hill raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

She had to know. Steve knew SHIELD had ears all over the place. Maria Hill would have been informed as soon as Loki asked for Jane. Nevertheless, Steve had to play the game. The future has even more politicking than the past. "I'd like to request Jane Foster's input for finding the magician."

There was no surprise in the unflappable woman's expression. There was nothing, like when Loki donned that inscrutable mask. "Really."

"Not here, not in the same base, necessarily," Steve amended. He didn't like looking disorganized in front of someone with more power, but he'd only had a short time to put the proposal together. And Maria Hill was disconcerting, with her non-reactions. "My team would like to collaborate with her. We don't need to meet in person again."

"Your team wants to work with Dr. Foster?"

"She's worked with magic before, as you said," Steve confirmed, skipping over her implied inquiry after Loki. He'd stick to the facts, to a plan. "Elle would have been a good go-between before, but I'll handle it now." It was tough to think about that with any optimism. Steve would be a glorified parrot unless he could somehow get Tony to teach him astrophysics overnight, but at least his memory would ensure he didn't mix anything up. The problem would be if Loki or someone had a clarifying question for him and he had nothing to give.

"You think your teammates can handle it?" Hill pressed.

"We can," Steve promised solemnly. "We're focused on catching this magician. That's all that matters."

Hill studied him a moment more. "I'll see what I can do, and what Foster is willing to do. You'll have an answer by dawn."

Steve stood. That was good enough for now. Surprisingly easy, really, considering Hill had witnessed just how combative two out of three of their team could be. If Foster wouldn't agree, he'd pay her a visit himself to explain the situation. That would prove that he 'fit' with Elle and Loki's attitudes pretty well. "Let her know how important this is," he requested before he left again.

Loki was seated at one of the darker desks, fiddling with another container, when Steve returned to the lab. He barely looked up at Steve approached. "I suppose any opposition fell away under your resolution."

"We'll see," Steve answered. He tried to find the most comfortable location, between Loki's personal space and the hint of discomfort distance suggested. It was more difficult to find when he was standing above someone else. "Hill's going to contact Foster, see if she's willing to cooperate if we're not in the same place. We'll kn0w by morning."

Loki scrutinized him, his eyes traveling over Steve's face with impassive intensity. Then he went back to his container, which seemed to hold nothing but air. "That's more than I can say for this magic."

"There's magic in there?" Steve squinted, but of course he couldn't see anything.

"Yes. The younger Stark breezed through here a few moments ago. He left Cecil with those sensors and me with these." Loki gestured to the only other person in the room, who was taking a spiky mechanism apart at a brightly-lit desk, then to a couple more clear containers on the desk . "He does, at least, know how to seal air and power inside a physical space."

"He's with Elle now?" It was an obvious question, really. Steve didn't wait for an answer; Loki's eye roll was enough. "Where's Tony?" he asked instead.

"Still at the scene, I imagine. Dr. Banner will be here soon to examine some of the corpses that lay closest to the epicenter of the blast."

"You going to help with that again?"

"I do not have much of a choice, if you wish to avoid a potential accident. There was a great deal of power in this attack; I don't think the green monster would respond well to any surprises such a body might hold." Loki wasn't grinning; he was all seriousness when he talked about the bodies.

Steve tried to draw him out again. "Elle said you helped with triage. Otherwise we'd have more bodies and fewer people recovering."

"Lights and direction," Loki dismissed shortly, still gazing at the magic. "I have a great deal more experience with subtlety than you do, Steven Rogers. Leave the hints to me. And hand me one of Cecil's sensors."

Steve did as he was asked, hope blooming at the mention of his name. It was condescending, a little formal, but it wasn't 'Captain'. An improvement, and, considering where they were, a major concession. He pulled up a chair on the other side of the desk so he could see around the computer's monitor. "What are you sensing?"

Loki blinked at him. " _I_ am sensing the life force and flow of the universe. I'm testing this machine to see if it has even a tiny fraction of that capacity."

Steve accepted that explanation. "Does the magician's magic always look the same? The same as when Darren showed me before, I mean. With the terrorists' bodies."

"I know what you mean. Yes, it looks the same." Loki reached out suddenly and tapped his middle finger against Steve's forehead.

Colors faded again, but this time Steve could see the outlines of objects. Cecil was a dim sort of colorless brightness, Steve's own hands were a little clearer though also colorless, and Loki was a blaze of gold-to-green in front of him. Instead of straight light, though, Steve could also see facial features and, therefore, expressions.

Loki was waiting for a reaction, his magic fading back toward his core. It stayed in his hands, but it was blinding to look straight at his chest. His head was almost that bright as well, which made eye contact tough.

Steve blinked hard, searching for the right words. "This is… incredible."

Loki looked back down. "It's an example, not an accurate rendering of my vision."

"Still." Steve followed his gaze and found… sludge. It was so ugly, compared to Loki's contained light. It reminded Steve of the half-frozen back roads he'd trekked with the Commandos when they would try to sneak up on Hydra locations in the dead of winter. Disgusting and depressing. "That does look the same as before."

"Yes, it probably does. It's difficult _not_ to convey this sort of repulsiveness."

Steve noticed how Loki eyed the offending container, and how the magic inside oozed around whenever the demigod moved it. It didn't sit at the bottom, though, it coalesced toward Loki, resting on whatever side of the dish faced him in an undulating heap. "Is magic… affected by gravity?"

"Does it look as though it is affected by gravity?"

The annoyed tone signaled that this conversation would be coming to an end soon, one way or another. Steve shook his head. "No," he admitted simply. "Anything I can do to help?"

Loki tapped his forehead again, and then everything except magic was visible again. "Use your own vision to supervise the hunt for that woman," he suggested dispassionately. "I understand Barton and Romanov have instigated the proceeding down in the Surveillance Hub."

"Alright." Steve knew it was difficult to focus with someone breathing down your neck, not to mention when that someone asked questions that Asgard probably taught in grade school. "Let me know if you need anything," he said firmly, his one insistence. Loki probably wouldn't come to either Steve or Elle unless the situation was dire, but it was important that he knew he could.

"I need quiet," Loki replied flatly.

Steve gave him that, exiting the room without another word. He still had his tablet in hand, so he tested it out to see if it was SHIELD tech or Stark. It was SHIELD.

" _How can I help you, Captain Rogers?_ " the female-sounding AI asked when he started tapping through the search options.

"Can you let me know when Dr. Banner gets here to examine the bodies?" Steve asked it. Her? Elle called Jarvis a 'him'.

" _Of course. By my calculations, he should be arriving within half an hour_."

"Thanks." Steve had long since come to terms with machines having personalities. Elle always thanked Jarvis, too, referencing the Terminator movies and saying she wanted to be friends with their future AI overlords.

The Surveillance Hub was a room Steve had heard about but never seen. He knew it was located on the top floor in the middle section of the building, right under all the satellite dishes and the helicopter landing pads, where drones could be sent with a good signal. The Hub was also a series of rooms of varying sizes, usually used for only hours at a time by different teams who needed the advanced equipment to run field operations.

The tablet directed Steve to one of the smallest rooms, set into a corner, manned by only three unfamiliar agents under the direction of Barton and Romanov.

"Cap," Barton greeted him when he walked in.

Natasha merely met his eyes and returned her gaze to one of two large-screen televisions set into the wall.

"What do we have?" Steve asked as the unfamiliar agents' eyes widened. They returned to their work, typing more quickly than before.

"So far, we're tracking history," Clint reported easily. He pointed to one young man with curly brown hair. "Klein, give us a quick rundown on vid one."

The young man, Agent Klein, hastily minimized every other window on his screen and threw the remaining one up onto the left-hand wall display. His hands were shaking a bit; he was nervous and trying to make a good impression. "We— uh. We've been tracking the person who dropped off the backpack. We've established an eighty percent likelihood that the subject is female, judging by walking speed and body language. We know that the subject is at least physically fit enough to have walked a mile and a half between the time they dropped off the device and when it detonated. After that, the subject kept walking in a straight line away from the explosion."

"We're catching up here in a few," Clint added. "Live in three… two… one." The right-hand screen halved so that one side showed the data still being processed while the other showed alternating videos of the hooded figure still walking at a measured pace. Depending on the source, the footage was either halting or grainy or both.

"She stayed on side streets," Clint continued, "so the footage has a lot of gaps. Traffic cams have her on a course toward more residential roads."

"Route map?" Steve requested as the woman paused then continued. She was crossing the street within the white lines. Her face was still shrouded.

Klein fumbled with the keyboard, scrolling through different programs until he got the right one up on the display as well.

Steve narrowed his eyes. Four miles, now, with sections being added as the subject showed up on new cameras. "She's heading toward our neighborhood."

"We've got plain clothes agents in place around the building," Natasha said.

"Is a team on the move to intercept her?"

"Yes and no," Clint hedged. "We're trying to get her to lead us back to the source. Our working theory is she's going to meet up with the magician."

That was worse news, if the magician was near the apartment building. "We should bring her in. Tiryaki disappeared in the middle of the street."

"We have reason to believe that he wasn't really gone at that point," Clint informed him. "We saw how Loki turned you and Elle invisible, and Loki's theory about fudged transportation would mean that Tiryaki wasn't taken away, just hidden."

"Still. We can't afford for the subject to be hidden. How close is the strike team?" The line was getting closer and closer to their street.

"We've got two SUVs circling her location and an armored truck on standby a block from your building," Natasha stated.

Since no one seemed to have a problem with it, Steve swapped himself fully out for Captain America and took charge. "Alright, have them converge on her exact location as soon as there are no civilians within the potential blast radius. What do they have for suppressants?"

"Tasers," Clint said, "tasers and guns. And knives. And handcuffs, obviously."

"Go in quiet, first," Steve decided. "See if they can ambush and load her onto the truck without a fuss."

Natasha held a hand to her ear and started doling out the orders to the strike teams. Klein switched the screen to display several body cameras at once, all riding in large vehicles. "Box her in the next time she hit an intersection," the spy ordered.

"Roger," came the response from one of the men.

Steve's stomach tightened. There were so many ways this could go wrong. He glanced at Clint to his right. "Do they have full protection from microbots?"

"They have masks and goggles on," Clint replied. "We didn't go full-hazmat this time. They're covered for an explosion as well."

Steve wondered how much simple gear could do against the kind of force that had killed, to the tablet's estimate, ten people in a split second. "Subdue the target before you pick her up," he ordered, hoping that the agents would hear him or that Natasha would relay the words.

"Roger that," the agent replied again. This time, though the voice was distorted, Steve recognized Agent Rumlow from the magician's first attack.

The room went quiet as the strike teams' locations converged on the woman. They slowed to wait for her to cross a quiet street, then sped up and screeched to a stop, surrounding her. Men poured out of the vehicles, and one tased her so she dropped mid-step just as she tried to bolt.

One man approached and cautiously pulled the hood back. "Female, white, brunette, mid-upper thirties."

"That's Lucinda Meyers," Steve commented to Clint.

"Yeah, I recognize her too."

"Bring her in," Natasha ordered the team. "I want eyes on her at all times."

They loaded the woman onto the armored truck with no issue.

Steve kept still, even as the talking resumed around him. There was still the possibility that this woman was carrying microbots in her body, or something even worse that they hadn't seen yet. This magician was nothing if not inventive, judging by his robotic upgrades and the well-coordinated attacks. He watched the screen that showed the agents' body cameras directed at the woman. She remained immobile, even though the effects of the tasers wore off and she opened her eyes.

The agents noticed this and tensed ever-so-slightly. "Stay still," Rumlow's voice cautioned sharply.

Lucinda Meyers shrank back as much as she could from flat on the floor. "Please…"

Rumlow's camera shifted abruptly, but Natasha put her hand to her ear just as quickly. "Let her talk. We need all the information we can get."

But all Meyers said was, "Please, please, please…" It didn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular, as her eyes never focused anywhere for long. Before long, the armored vehicle was pulling into the small parking bay that Steve tried not to believe was used just for loading and unloading prisoners. Rumlow placed a black cloth bag over Meyers' head and followed Natasha's instructions to place her in the lowest detention level in a room with just a wide white table with a chair in each side. They seated her and strung the handcuff chain through a metal loop underneath the table so she could just reach a couple inches above the tabletop. They left her there, alone in a white-walled room.

"We'll let her sweat for a few hours," Clint decided. "We're thinking Eleanore might have some insight for the interrogation, so we'll wait until she's awake."

Steve knew Eleanore was a strong, professional woman, but he couldn't picture her conducting a harsh interrogation like Tiryaki underwent almost daily. He didn't want to suggest such a thing; she was a kid, and there were plenty of other people who could handle it just as well. "I'm not sending Elle in there," he decided. Let them blame him for this, so the fight could be over before she woke up.

"Neither are we," Natasha said, finally leaving her post in front of the rightmost screen and moving over to stand with Steve and Clint. She crossed her arms. "I'll be conducting the interrogation to begin with. We'll have Eleanore in the next room, reporting what she can."

That was better. Steve nodded his approval. "In the meantime, I know Darren dropped some new sensors off upstairs. Let's get those pointed at Meyers, see what we can see."

"Great, I'll talk to Tony about that when he gets here." Clint reached over and tapped a few keys in front of Klein. The younger man responded by leaning back in his chair and raising his hands out of the way. "Relax, kid, I'm just showing Cap the footage analytics."

The tablet in Steve's hand vibrated and the screen lit up with a video of Bruce alighting from a car in the parking garage. It was time to go. "Send me the information," he requested both Clint and the nervous Klein. "Alert me with any progress." That sounded distant and hollow and cold, so Steve paused on his way out the door and looked back. "Good work, all of you."

Clint and Natasha simply nodded; they seemed to know the praise was mostly for the three other agents anyway. Those three sat up straighter, and their eyes followed him out of the room.

On his way to the autopsy lab, Steve debated whether he should call Eleanore with some kind of update as he'd promised. He didn't want to wake her; there was nothing that couldn't wait until morning. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he walked. "Jarvis?"

" _Yes, Captain Rogers?_ "

"If I send Eleanore a text, can you make sure it doesn't wake her up?"

" _I will remove the sound from the notification_ ," Jarvis promised. " _What is the message?_ "

"Let her know we caught Lucinda Meyers, and that we're waiting until morning to interrogate her. And also that Bruce and Loki are working on some of the autopsies. More updates to follow."

The words appeared on the screen as he said them, though Jarvis changed some of them to sound like Steve was speaking directly to Elle. Once that was done, a 'Send?' option appeared. Steve read over the message once more and approved it. This way, he could keep his promise and still let his teammate sleep.

Loki was already in the long, white room, the same one they'd used to examine the terrorists' bodies. According to the tablet, Bruce was managing the body delivery and would appear in a few minutes. He and Loki would have to work quickly, as the victims' families would already be looking for their loved ones' remains. In this case, Steve approved the typical SHIELD secrecy. If whatever information came from this work went public, the magician would be that much father ahead of them. Steve settled into a comfortable stance in front of the control panel that allowed the observers to speak to the scientists.

Loki looked up and met Steve's eyes through the observation room's glass. "Did you corner your prey, then?"

Steve pressed the main button. "Yes, and it's the same woman from the hospital attack. We're letting her sit for a few hours, then we'll interrogate her."

Bruce entered then, cutting off whatever response Loki might have had to the news. The doctor was followed by a few of SHIELD agents, three of whom wheeled three gurneys with black-bagged corpses to a stop at equal points in the room, while the last one pushed a cart with a myriad of silver and gold instruments and wires. These agents eyed Loki, glanced up at Steve, and left when Bruce absently waved them away.

"You're having an interesting night," the world's leading gamma radiation specialist greeted Loki blandly, removing his glasses and fidgeting with them.

Loki inclined his head. "I believe it's proved interesting for you as well."

"More depressing, if you want my honest opinion. Could have been worse, though. You saved a lot more people than we could have lost. The actual casualty count is six, but the footage shows that at least fourteen people were injured to the point of being immobilized. Good work."

To Steve's surprise, Loki waited until Bruce was finished speaking to shake his head. "Eleanore is the reason for that." The declaration was softer than the one he'd given Steve, though. He gestured to the tablet in Bruce's hands. "At any rate, it seems your machines were able to pull some data after all."

"Thanks to Tony and Darren," Bruce said with the same sort of humility that begrudged any compliments to himself. He looked up at Steve, then tapped a few times on his tablet. "This is what we have, so far," he said to the room at large.

Steve's tablet lit up with a small loading window that quickly filled and was replaced with charts and graphs and equations.

"I chose these three because they were alone at the scene," Bruce continued, now more informationally, "meaning people won't be looking for them as quickly, and because they're displaying a lot of… well, the term that comes to mind is energy seepage. I don't think Eleanore even touched them, either. I had Tony run through the footage several times, and it looks like they were killed by the blast directly."

Steve wondered why it mattered that Elle hadn't touched the bodies. Loki had mentioned before that what she did was a specific kind of magic.. Was it impacting the readings for other victims? Could these sensors tell magic apart, now? Could they trace it back to a source?

"Let me see the data from someone she healed," Loki requested. Apparently, Steve wasn't the only one in the dark.

Bruce willingly handed the tablet over, and reached to bring a few things up on its screen. "We're calling these outlines, since it looks kind of like what you showed me the other day. Here's one Eleanore spent a lot of time with— about three minutes."

Loki's brow furrowed in an instant. He bent further over the device and started moving his finger over its surface.

Bruce got even closer, which Loki seemed not to mind, until they were standing shoulder-to-shoulder. "Here's one she only spent twenty seconds on… and here's one who got taken in an ambulance before she got to them."

Steve wanted to sort through his own tablet, to try to find what they were seeing, but he was absorbed in remembering Loki's every reaction. While Loki's intensity wasn't new, seeing it so focused was. Seeing Loki's focus at all— that was the captivating part. Usually, Steve registered a few emotions from the other man: anger and unsettling calm. Maybe some enjoyment, if Loki was taunting Elle about something, but it was all on the surface.

 _Guess it takes something pretty spectacular to draw him out._

"Could we get her down here?" Bruce asked. "We could see if the affect is the same on one of these."

Loki was already shaking his head. "She'll be no good at this point. Besides, I have a theory of my own." He held out his hand. "How would your monster react to a protective spell?"

"Uh…" Bruce backed away slightly. "You know, I'd rather not find out, if this is an explosive kind of experiment."

Loki dropped his hand an raised his head. "What about you, then, Steven?"

Steve nodded. From the 'what-did-you-just-call-him?' look on Bruce's face, he guessed Loki was back in show-business, unsettling people for the hell of it. Still, a protective spell wasn't the worst thing Steve had ever had done to his body. He descended the stairs and walked into the white-lit lab.

Bruce met and passed him on his way out. "I'll just observe for this one," he said sheepishly.

Steve could see the Hulk looming in the gentle man's mind. He nodded; whatever made Bruce more comfortable. Steve didn't think Loki would do something that put him in danger, but there were more variables than just Loki at play here. He'd be appropriately cautious, and he'd take Loki's directions seriously.

"The spell is already in place," Loki said as Steve approached where he towered over the body furthest from the door.

"When did you do that?" Steve asked. From the video and from experience, he'd seen that Loki usually did something with his hands to signal placement of magic.

"Just after you returned from a hunt with this enemy's magic dripping from you." Loki reached out and tapped his forehead again with one hand, and placed his other on Steve's wrist. He didn't seem upset at recalling that mission when Steve had ignored Loki's caution and bagged the terrorists' bodies. "I'm strengthening the spell now," he explained as Steve's vision changed again.

Steve blinked hard. His own body had flared to green-gold, contrasting sharply with his suddenly dark surroundings. The gross magic was there, just to his right, reaching out of the body bag and succumbing to its own weight, leeching to the floor and dissipating around his and Loki's feet. Even as the light faded from the rest of his body, Steve's feet kept glowing slightly. The ugly magic rippled away from his boots in a slow mass that reminded Steve of castor oil dripping into a spoon.

Loki flared next, magic drifting from his fingers to hover over both bodies again. The magic swirled and coalesced like before.

"What's that do?" Steve asked him. If he was going to be part of an experiment, he wanted to know everything he could about it. Not that Loki was anything like Rouldkin, but still…

"It's an extra safety measure, in case this literally blows up in my face," Loki answered. He unzipped the body bag and drew a crackling foil blanket aside. Even more of the foreign magic spilled out, mostly in Loki's direction.

"What kind of safety measure?" Steve pressed, refusing to be distracted by the stuff oozing around him.

Loki's eyes were points of brighter light in an already glowing face, but Steve could still see them rolling toward the ceiling. "Please save all inquiry until the end of the presentation."

Since he'd specifically asked for that, Steve fell silent. Maybe Loki needed more focus for this. It looked worse; the body wasn't even visible under the roiling magic.

Loki finished pulling the bag from the body and stepped back. "Place your hand on the arm," he ordered.

Steve swallowed and followed the order. He could see the arm on the edge of the gurney, pulsing with the ugly light. It was pulverized, no structure except for what was contained inside the skin; when Loki had moved it to place the bag underneath, it had flopped with a wet noise. His stomach threatened a rebellion with a lurch, but he willed it to quiet. And watched as his own hand glowed, cutting a path through the enemy's power.

Something wasn't right about the image. Steve's hand hit the arm long before he thought it should, and even after the other magic was pushed away by whatever Loki had done, he couldn't even see a faint outline. "It's invisible," he commented. It wasn't a question.

"Mm?" Loki grunted from behind him. A second later, when Steve looked over his shoulder, he answered, "Oh, yes, you can't see it. There's no life force."

That was the first time Steve had ever heard Loki take a second before replying. He followed the yellow-green gaze back to his own hand. "What are you looking for?"

Loki came forward again with halting, thoughtful steps. His arms were crossed and one finger brushed over his lip. Instead of replying, he carefully reached for Steve's forearm and lifted it away from the corpse. The ugly magic folded back into place. Loki put Steve's hand back down and lifted it away again a couple more times.

"What are you looking for?" Steve asked again. The clammy, gelatinous skin was getting to him. At least an explanation would give him a reason to keep allowing the contact.

Loki lifted his arm one last time, then released him. "Something that doesn't exist, apparently."

Since every answer only left him with more questions, and since Loki still wasn't paying enough attention to him to remove the magical sight, Steve quit asking and started trying to figure Loki's thought process out for himself.

First, there was the fact that Loki hadn't put him in danger. A protection had been in place before Steve even knew about it. And that same protection had kept Eleanore standing. There was something different about how the sensors read people Eleanore had healed— no, Bruce had said 'touched'. "You thought your spell made the magic leave the victims?"

Loki finally regarded him with something like focus. Irritated focus. "It was a possibility."

"But now, you think it was Elle."

"Since I have no evidence for other explanations, yes. Once she recovers, I will have her repeat the experiment." Loki removed the sight with another flick of Steve's forehead and crossed his arms again.

Now that Steve could see normally again, he noted that Loki looked frustrated. "We're making progress," he pointed out, remembering how surly Howard Stark could get when a project wasn't going his way.

Loki looked down his nose. "Don't patronize me."

For some reason, that statement brought on an inappropriately-timed grin. Steve did his best to hide it, but there was nothing he could do short of walking away. Instead, he went with the humor. "You're right. Get back to work. I want spectacular results by morning."

Loki's mouth twitched, but he hid it much better behind a raised eyebrow. "Is that 'morning' meaning once this day turns to the next in a scant few moments, or dawn itself?"

"No back-talk," Steve joked lightly, like a poor drill sergeant. "Just give me results."

"If you two are done flirting, some of us would like to use the instruments." Tony's voice cut through above and around them over the speakers. Steve looked up to find the older Stark standing next to Bruce in the observation room.

Steve gave Tony an eye-roll of his own and looked down at the body for the first time. A middle-aged man in a suit. His eyes were still open.

"It was instantaneous for him," Loki said under his breath. "I remember him from the footage."

Steve nodded. This was almost an apology, for Loki. And replying to it would send him back into his shell. Instead, Steve slightly turned his head and dropped his voice to a whisper as well. "You ready for Tony?"

Loki actually played along, putting that hand back up to run a finger over his mouth as though deep in thought. "No, go delay him."

"Hello?! Earth to super-friends!"

Steve looked up. "In a minute, Tony." Back down, to Loki. "How long do you need?"

"No time at all; I just wanted to see what tactic you'd use." Loki flashed a smirk and finally acknowledged Tony with a glance. "You may come in, Stark."

"Thanks, Your Highness."

"You're welcome." The demigod smirked again, somehow in a good mood standing over a dead body covered in weird magic. "The experiment is over for now, Dr. Banner."

Bruce gave them a thumbs-up from behind the window. "Great. I'll be right there."

"How soon do you need Elle for this?" Steve asked. She wouldn't want to be left out of discovery anyway, but they probably only had a few hours before these people would be missed from morgues.

"Not soon. I just won't let Stark touch the corpses." Loki crossed his arms as Tony actually entered the room, good humor fading into a scowl. "I meant what I said about her uselessness."

"I'll let her rest, then," Steve promised. "What can I do here?"

"Stand aside and let the doctorates work their magic," Tony quipped.

Comments like that, Steve had learned from his time at the Tower, would have earned Tony a 'don't be an ass' from Eleanore and a reproachful look from Darren. As neither of them were here, Steve just ignored it.

"Magic is an impossibility for you. What wisdom have you to shed here this night?" Loki asked acidly.

"I already shed some wisdom on these sensors, Rockstar," Tony retorted easily. "See how they pick up magic now?"

"Intermittently, if there isn't another form of energy in their way," Loki pointed out smugly.

Tony shrugged, his t-shirt's logo moving up and down over the glowing arc reactor in his chest. "Progress and prototypes. You're the one delivering the 'spectacular results' for Ice Cube here."

That was probably a name from modern popular culture, not just something in the freezer. Steve ignored this one as well, without Eleanore here to explain it. "It was a joke, Tony. What do you want to get from this?"

"Whatever we can. I don't have a model to work from, so we need to keep this stuff set up for as long as we have the bodies. You can use your muscles if you feel left out."

"I could use some help, actually," Bruce said from the doorway. "Steve, I'm headed to look for some tables and shelves to set up down here. It'd be quicker if you helped carry them back; then we don't have to wait for agents to show up."

Steve resisted the urge to look at Loki to check his acceptance of this plan. In front of Tony, it was best to present a united front with no fissures. "Sure," was all he said, handing his tablet to Loki and following Bruce out to the hallway.

"We won't leave them alone too long," Bruce reassured him as soon as the door closed.

Steve felt a small grin curl one corner of his mouth. "Thanks. Loki can hear us, you know."

"I remember," Bruce said with a grin of his own. "Come on, I think there's a storage closet around here somewhere."

Since the doors weren't marked, they had to go halfway around the Hub's circular hallway before they found what they were looking for. A few folding tables with convenient handles and a couple of shelves were all Bruce said he needed. Steve carefully stacked a couple tables on top of two shelves and followed the doctor back around. Bruce carried two tables himself. Altogether, it looked like they'd have enough to hold the instruments on the cart back in the lab.

"— the hell?!" Tony was yelling as the door slid back open.

Bruce let Steve inside ahead of him. Steve hastily dropped his cargo with a bang that drew attention from both men. He noted, with a silent prayer of thanks, that Loki didn't appear to be too angry. In fact, he looked amused while Tony cradled his own hand and cursed creatively.

"What's going on?" Steve demanded. I walk out of the room for ten minutes…

"David Blaine here won't let me see the bodies!" Tony exclaimed.

"You don't need to touch them to see them," Loki pointed out.

Here we go. Steve drew himself up and put on his no-nonsense voice. "Tony, we're waiting on Elle for some more tests. Here's the stuff to hold your sensors." For Loki, no reprimand, since Tony was already flexing his hand with no visible damage.

Tony retreated to pull a table off the shelves. "Playing favorites, Cap? Very not cool."

Steve felt a little bad about it, too, but Tony didn't have the whole story. "We need to work together as a team. That means listening to each other and," he met Loki's eyes, "communicating. We don't have a lot of time; let's not waste it fighting."

Tony carried a couple tables over and set them up against the wall under the observation window. "Speaking of communication, where is Uhura?"

Steve looked at Loki, who just stared blankly back. "What, Tony?"

"Eleanore is upstairs, resting," Bruce supplied. He was dragging one of the smaller shelves over to the other side of the room, next to Loki. "It's a name from this show, Star Trek?" he explained further, "Uhura is the communications officer on this spaceship."

"Although I don't think we could get Elle to wear the uniform," Tony added with a quick chuckle.

Steve looked to Bruce again for an explanation for that. The quiet man shook his head. "Better to leave that one alone."

Sexist, then. Unless Tony actually offended Elle with a comment, Steve could overlook it. He crossed his arms. "So we're setting up sensors."

"We as in Bruce and I, yes. You could go on a coffee run with Nosferatu here. We'd be done by the time you get back."

Loki's blank expression turned downward into a glare. "I'm not leaving something this important in your hands, Stark."

"Funny, I thought the nuke I sent through your pretty blue wormhole was important."

Steve remembered Elle's earlier comment about gray hair. He knew exactly what she meant, now. And he knew how much better this would be going if she was here. 'Communications officer,' indeed. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, trying to push back some of the tension. "Listen, let's just work together for a few hours. Bruce, what do you need me to do?"

"I can show you how to calibrate some of these, if you bring your tablet back over here," Bruce offered.

The tablet in question was still in Loki's hands. Steve approached and hand his hand out. "You want to learn this, too?"

Loki handed him the tablet. "I'll stay a few more minutes before I go back upstairs. You may have the honor of keeping this Stark in hand."

"Kinky!" Tony called from across the room.

Steve didn't need a translation for either of those things. He just breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth like the meditation instructions said, and walked over to Bruce's calming presence.

Calibrating was a simple matter, once Steve got the hang of it. He compared it, in his mind, to focusing one of the old cameras Howard sometimes sent with the Commandos on reconnaissance missions. Only he had to use a lot more math and guesswork. Some of the sensors still didn't have imagery programs, so it was really tough to tell when they were working correctly because they always read something.

True to his word, Loki left after a few minutes. Steve kept an eye on Tony while Bruce instructed him and checked his work. The older Stark quieted once Loki was gone, and he seemed to get absorbed with tweaking each of his 'instruments' both by hand and by typing furiously on a computer he pulled out of somewhere. He largely ignored the bodies now, except for when he pointed something new at them.

"I'd like to do some CAT scans soon," Bruce confided when he and Steve were about halfway through the instruments on their side of the room. "When do you think Eleanore will be ready to head back down here?"

Steve checked his watch and shook his head. "This was a bad one. Can we give her a few more hours?" It was only two in the morning. Elle could at least sleep until five. "How long before you return them?"

"I've been checking in on reported searches, and I've got nothing for these two, still. We probably have twelve hours, but that's just a guess. Or… no one could show up to claim them."

Steve frowned. The middle-aged man was still exposed under the sensors, but the other body was zipped inside its bag. Two people who might have no one looking for them at home.

That could have been me. Those first days after he woke up, he'd had nobody. As soon as SHIELD had moved him into that quiet barracks, Steve had faced the world by himself. He'd woken alone, ventured out to meet strangers. Luckily, one of those strangers turned out to be Eleanore, or he still might be living like that.

"It's late at night, though," Bruce added after a second. "Confusion like that… I wouldn't be surprised if not everyone's claimed until their names get published in the obits."

"Do you know if all the dead have been identified?" Steve asked. There were only six of them, after all.

"They all had wallets and some kind of ID," Bruce said. "I know law enforcement and the hospitals will be working on contacting relatives and workplaces. That's why I said we might not have much time."

The hall door opened then to admit Darren Stark. He looked… distant. He didn't greet Steve or Bruce, but walked over to his father and set down his backpack to retrieve his own computer. Tony started talking to him about programming, and soon Steve couldn't understand one word in three.

"He was worried about her," Bruce said under his breath.

Steve returned his attention to the scientist. "About Elle?" he asked just as quietly.

Bruce nodded in one quick motion. "He didn't say much, just got quiet. Tony asked him what was wrong, and Darren got kind of… well, I don't know him that well yet. You think Eleanore's okay?"

"She seemed fine when I talked to her a couple hours ago," Steve said. "Loki's magic protected her."

"That's good, but I meant more psychologically. The news confirmed her identity somehow, so they were being pretty harsh by the time I got in the car on the way over here."

Some things never change. "They didn't mention where we live, right?"

"No, they didn't." Bruce motioned surreptitiously to the two Starks. "I know they're running some kind of software to slightly distort her and Loki's faces in every public image so they can walk down the street without being recognized. You know, hopefully."

"Hopefully," Steve agreed. His chest felt like it was sinking into icy water. There wouldn't be any more covert missions for either of his teammates for a while, not like the one they'd been on today. People might overlook them on their own, but they would make an impression together.

The rest of the calibrations only took forty-five minutes. After that, Steve got reports from his tablet on the whereabouts and activities of each of his teammates. Elle was asleep, Natasha was running through something on a computer, Clint was still in Ops, running over video with enhancement software, looking for any clues. Loki was in the lab with Cecil, going over the results from the corpse sensors and the sensors still at the scene.

"Coffee break for me," Tony declared with one last twist of a minuscule screwdriver. "Cap, you want an extra-strength espresso? Bruce? Darren? Tea?"

"No thanks, Tony," Steve said.

"I'm going to look through things here," Darren answered.

"I'll go for some tea," Bruce volunteered. He took his tablet with him and brandished his cell phone. "Call me if something acts up, Captain."

"I will," Steve promised. Once they left, he eyed the younger man— only 'younger' by an unbelievable two years, but still… "You alright?" he asked, just as he had for Eleanore a couple hours before.

Darren reacted with more surprise. "Me? Yeah— yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Late night," Steve hedged. "Elle says you like to get your forty winks."

"Oh, I try to, but I don't need as much sleep as a human. Maybe six hours per night, on average? But one all-nighter won't hurt." A quick smile and a pleasant tone… Darren was all surface. He was shy.

Steve didn't know him very well. He had Elle's offhand comments and a couple nights of video games and sparring to judge this half-alien by. It was tough, reading him. Darren didn't seem deliberately secretive, but he also didn't share like Eleanore did— all out in the open at once.

That was something Steve could respect, but… communication. He walked over and leaned his hands carefully on the spare table the Starks had set up as a makeshift desk. "Is Elle doing alright?"

Darren nodded once, automatically, though his hazel eyes widened and focused on Steve's, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. "She said she talked to you earlier."

"She did." Steve didn't know what he was trying to figure out here, but he felt like he didn't have the whole story. He opted for a casual conversation. "Bruce said you and Tony have programs running to help protect her and Loki against facial recognition?"

"We've had those for a while," Darren said. "It helps that she doesn't do a lot of publicity. I know SHIELD also has people monitoring your apartment building for paparazzi and things like that."

 _And probably to listen in on us, to watch Loki._ The contract they'd signed stated that SHIELD had the right to protective surveillance, anyway, although the parameters were spelled out very specifically: nothing in the residential building, and they had to let all three team members know when there was even a suspicion of a threat. But that was an observation to pursue another time.

"So Loki doesn't want us to touch these, huh?" Darren continued, broadly gesturing to the bodies.

Steve accepted that the conversation was moving toward science, which would make Darren much more comfortable and talkative. "He wants to see what affect Elle has on them."

"Probably not much. I mean…" Another gesture, this one more rueful.

Steve nodded. "He and Bruce had some data on the magic being… gone? Once she touched the bodies?"

"Really?" Darren's eyes widened in surprise, and he blinked at the bodies. "She never conflicts with me. Do you have the stuff they were looking at there?"

Steve held out the tablet. "I don't know what the files are called. I didn't see them before, either."

Darren took the device and started tapping his way through it as quickly as any kid from the 21st century. Steve watched as he sorted past several decimal-numbered folders, past names like 'T1SData', to a collection named ' '. These folders had short dates on them. Darren chose the one called 'Scene5.28.2012'. There were images in here, and documents that ended in unrecognizable clumps of letters. Steve was familiar with things like PDFs— Elle had taken some time to walk him through the more useful programs on his computer, and how to convert files between their different types, a few days before the Battle for New York. But these, like many of the things the Starks worked with, were a mystery.

"Here's one," Darren noted to himself. Or maybe to Steve. In any case, he kept the tablet angled toward himself and bent forward with interest. "Okay, this one's just a still from a sensor. It says…" he scrolled through notes on the side of the green-to-blue outline of someone sitting upright on something invisible, "… she healed this person for about thirty seconds. So we need a comparison."

"Bruce swiped between three pictures," Steve recalled, trying to see over Darren's shoulder.

"Great. We just need to find that file, then. I'll sort by 'last-opened'." Back to the files they went, and Darren clicked the middle section at the top of the screen. The files jumped into place, all jumbled instead of in alphabetical order. One called 'TimedE' sat at the top. It opened to reveal a very dim outline.

Steve found a good angle and read the notes this time. This was the three-minute person. They were purple and contained. The statistics reported that Elle had spent an average of thirty seconds with each victim she healed. This one must have been really close to death. They'd been gathered by the emergency personnel very close to the epicenter of the blast, unconscious with a green light hovering above them.

The next image was the thirty-second person. They were a little brighter on the screen, but still pretty dim compared to Steve's glimpses of these two bodies. Maybe there's some kind of interference at the scene, too?

"Oh, man." Darren came to rest on a still of a body Elle hadn't touched at all. They were killed by the blast, many of their bones pulverized and their organs ruptured. They lit the screen with yellow dregs that faded through the spectrum with distance.

Steve reached out to tilt the tablet again for a better look. No wonder Loki had been so interested in this. Was Elle capable of neutralizing the enemy's magic? How did she do it?

Darren had gone quiet. After a second of staring at the images, he flipped back through them for another, closer look. Then he brought the screen back to himself and bent further over it. His intensity matched Loki's to a tee.

"What do you think?" Steve prompted. He was used to ideas flowing freely from this younger man once he had something to conjecture about.

Darren barely glanced at him. "It has to have something to do with the healing thing," he said absently.

He didn't volunteer anything more. Steve didn't know what kinds of questions to ask to expand the conversation, either. When Darren wandered away to comb through the tablet's data alongside his laptop's, Steve let him go.

There was nothing for him to do in the lab anymore, anyway. Coffee sounded good, too. And some food. The cafeteria had hot entrées at all hours. "I'll go find Tony and Bruce," he offered to Darren's back.

Darren's head shot up and twisted to meet Steve's eyes over his shoulder. "Huh?"

"I'll go find your dad and Bruce," Steve reiterated. While he had Darren's attention, he added, "If Tony comes back here, don't let him touch the bodies."

"No, yeah. I won't. Elle needs to mess with them before we do anything."

At least we're on the same page there. Steve grabbed another tablet Bruce had left on the corner of a cluttered table and walked out the door. "Can you show me where Tony is?" he asked it. Maybe he could get more conjecture from the more vocal Stark.

"Mr. Stark is currently meeting with Director Fury in the Director's office," the voice reported. It gave him a brief map and an estimated time of arrival: 5 minutes.

"What are they meeting about?" Steve waited impatiently for the elevator, wondering if the stairs would be faster. Probably, for him, they would be. But the sliding doors were already opening.

"I am not at liberty to disclose the content of the Director's meetings."

 _Will they lock me out?_ Steve decided not to ask that. Better to ask for forgiveness, if he 'accidentally' walked in on some private conference. "Where's Bruce?" he asked instead.

"Dr. Banner is conferring with Mr. Eldrsen in the lab upstairs."

 _Who the hell_ _…_ "Mr. Eldersen?"

"Mr. Loki Eldrsen, of Asgard."

 _I didn_ _'t even know he had a last name._ Thor had just used his first name, like some kind of celebrity, or he used, 'Thor, Son of Odin'. Loki must not want that title, being adopted and all.

Steve used Google to look up that last name and found nothing except a strange site in Russian. He wondered if Loki had chosen that name, or if someone at SHIELD had assigned it. Loki was the type to choose something for a reason— did that mean 'Eldrsen' had a special meaning? Maybe Eleanore would know.

The elevator slid to a smooth stop on the twentieth floor and the doors opened to admit a few other agents, who eyed Steve and said nothing. Steve returned the silence and darkened the tablet's screen so they couldn't see his team's whereabouts or where Steve was headed. Thankfully, they made it to the thirtieth floor without any more interruptions, so he got to disembark.

It was his second time on this floor tonight. Steve strode past Hill's office, where the white noise machine was whispering, and let himself in the double doors that marked Fury's importance. They weren't locked; nothing tried to stop him.

Tony and Fury stopped talking when those doors opened. Steve just caught Tony's last word, "anything," which told him nothing about their discussion.

"Captain," Fury greeted him.

"Director," Steve replied, coming to a stop ten feet away from the desk.

"I don't have a report for you, Cap," Tony informed him from his seat in front of Fury's desk. He was subdued compared to before, verging on sullen.

Steve got the feeling he wasn't welcome here. "I just came up to talk through some of the data," he said.

Tony rolled his eyes to the ceiling and kept them there. "I'm not on that project right this second."

Fury cleared his throat. "We're discussing your team's new visibility in the public eye."

"What about it?" Steve asked.

"It poses a problem from a —"

"— Ya know, Nick, Stevie Wonder here isn't all the way in the loop. Maybe you could both just let me handle it." Tony was purposely rude now, not just thoughtless.

Steve was genuinely confused. _I wasn_ _'t that hard on you in the lab, Tony._ "What are you handling?"

"Family matter," Tony supplied.

"You should fill him in," Fury told the scientist. "Go for coffee, like you said. It'll put you in a better mood."

Steve crossed his arms. "Fill me in on what?"

Tony didn't answer him, but he leaned forward and shot out of the chair like it was burning him. "Fine. Fine. That cafeteria of yours better have an espresso machine now."

"It does," Fury replied.

Steve glanced between the two men as Tony stalked past him to the door. Fury met his eyes, nodded, and pointed to Tony. "Your tour's leaving."

It was a dismissal. Fury wasn't going to be the one to fill him in; Steve would have to deal with an irate Stark instead. He turned heel and followed Tony back out the doors, which swung shut behind them.

"Tony?" Steve tried. If he needed to, he'd apologize for Loki shocking the other man in the lab. "If this is about what happened downstairs, I—"

"— I've zapped Bruce harder than your demigod pal got me," Tony dismissed. "Just save it for the coffee, Cap. I've got other things on my mind. After this, you will too."

Steve fell silent. They came to a stop outside the elevator doors. The wall panel showed the time at three fifteen.

A vibration sounded from Tony's pocket. He pulled his phone out and held it to his ear. "Yes, dearest?" he asked in a sickly-sweet voice. A pause, and his demeanor changed back to something more serious. "Yep. Thanks. She's asleep right now; Jarvis has her on do-not-disturb. I will. Yeah. I'm taking Cap for a coffee and a talk."

The elevator doors opened. It was empty. Steve walked on, wondering why he couldn't hear a voice from the phone as he sometimes could with Elle's. He also wondered why Pepper was calling Tony. Sure, the attack was horrible, but it had been over for a while.

"I don't know," Tony continued, punching the button for the ground level. "Yeah, I've been monitoring. Alright, thanks. Maybe this afternoon. Bye." He ended the call.

"Pepper alright?" Steve asked.

"Oh yeah, she's fine," Tony replied easily. Like Darren, he didn't offer anything more.

"Is she in New York?" Steve tried again.

The scowl came back. "On her way there. She had to cut some meetings short in Amsterdam for this."

"Important meetings?"

The elevator stopped and let them out into the hall outside the cafeteria. Most of this level was used for storage, both food and small munitions. Things that wouldn't blow up too bad if a missile hit the building. "Bullets and hot dog buns," Clint had joked earlier that afternoon during the lessons, "how American can we get, huh?"

"Not too important," Tony responded as they walked toward the smell of food. As Steve watched, he scoffed and his expression got a bit more relaxed. "What are they gonna say? 'Sorry, we won't reschedule for the CEO of Stark Industries?' Besides, they love Pepper."

Steve had only met her the one time, a few days before, when he'd ventured to Stark Tower for more research into the magician. Pepper had greeted him warmly, mentioned that Elle and Loki were waiting in the lab too, and asked politely about Steve's experience with modern times. Unlike many people, Steve got the impression she was genuinely interested and not just because he was an oddity. He'd answered honestly yet positively, and then he'd taken his leave to find out why his two other teammates were there already. Other than that, all he knew was what he could gather from Darren and Eleanore's brief mentions: that Pepper was smart, that she was 'stylish', that she was the best thing to happen to Stark Industries in a long time.

"So why's she coming back?" Steve asked. As motivated as Ms. Potts probably was, she hadn't had much of a hand in this investigation so far.

"Moral support," Tony quipped. It clearly wasn't the real reason. But that was all he volunteered as espresso hissed into the small, white mug.

Steve got plain black coffee instead. It was strong, and it would do about the same thing; caffeine was another luxury he'd lost with this new body. He followed Tony across the empty room to a small table in the far corner.

Tony still took a long time to start speaking. He drained half his cup and rubbed a hand over his eyes, showing more weariness than Steve had ever seen from him. Finally, he opened his mouth. "I guess the easiest thing would just be to blurt all this out and let you sort through it, college-style. You went to college, right?"

"Art school," Steve said, "I didn't graduate before I joined the Army."

"Well, we're in a real golden ratio of shit." Another sip.

"What do you mean?" Steve pressed. Tony was speaking unusually slowly.

"I mean our mutant friend just got pushed into the spotlight. And I'm trying to think of a way to explain this to you so you don't ask her a lot of questions; she doesn't want to talk about it."

"What?" Elle would talk to him. "How do you know she doesn't?"

Tony tapped one finger against the side of his mug. "Maybe because I've known her for more than two months?"

Steve sat back. That was true, but quantity of time didn't equal quality of friendship. Then again, he had no idea how close Elle and Tony actually were. Tony had only one nickname— Princess— for the young woman who unabashedly warned him not to be too much of a jerk. And she had a bath robe at the Tower, and she seemed perfectly comfortable with both Starks.

"Don't get flustered, Superfriend," Tony continued, "Let's just stick to the facts, alright? I was working with Fury on a plan to help keep your little trio off the media radar. You'll have to lie low, mission-wise, for at least a week now."

"A week?" That was a long time— too long. "We have to find this guy, Tony."

"A week is plenty of time to research some of this magic stuff, hone our sensors, maybe find some less-conspicuous places you could take the kids on a field trip. And by kids, I mean the Princess and the living embodiment of sass. Wait, both of those things could describe Elle— I mean her and Loki."

"I know who you mean." Steve sighed. "Tony, they won't go for this. It's too important."

"Eh, Loki seems to want to keep you two safe. Something about his own life being on the line? So I think if you let him know Elle's just as likely to get shot as praised for heroism, he'd agree to keeping her out of the public eye."

"Let me approach it," Steve decided. "At least, don't order Loki around. Not tonight."

"Tonight's going to be over, soon," Tony corrected, "we've gotta face the future."

It was so tough to talk to this man. He used quips to hide what he was saying. Howard had been much more direct, more helpful. "Well, wait to face it until Elle wakes up." That could act as an order, and Steve could act as a buffer. He emptied his mug and left before Tony could toss any more arguments his way.

Up in the top lab, Loki and Bruce were still talking and they showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Steve decided to continue researching on his own, and that he'd ask Loki about it later on.

He set about learning how to use SHIELD's mapping technology. From what Elle had pulled up, they had about ten square miles to cover. Depending on how far away Loki could or couldn't sense, this could take a few days to over a week. Well, I guess we'll be out of SHIELD's hair for a while, and away from the public eye. He planned a few different routes up and down the mountains, avoiding villages and roads as much as possible.

Steve turned so hard he nearly toppled his chair when a thump sounded from behind him. He found Cecil jerking his head back up from where it had hit the desk.

"Ugh," said the youngest PhD. D Steve had ever met. He rubbed his forehead and met Steve's eyes through crooked, black-rimmed glasses. A flush crept up his cheeks. "I didn't mean— oh, shoot, how long was I out?"

"Not long enough to make much of a difference," Bruce answered him kindly.

Loki was laughing at the young man openly. "I'm sure the circuit board benefited from the rest as much as you did."

It was finally close to five o'clock. Steve closed out of the document and made his way over to Cecil's desk. "I'm going to wake Eleanore up soon," he said, "Then why don't you go take a break across the hall? Just set your alarm for a couple hours from now." Cell phones were useful that way.

"I— yes, sir, Captain Rogers," Cecil said with a little hesitation. "I'll get up a seven-thirty. Agent Hughes should be here at eight; I'll brief him then."

"Sounds good." Steve wasn't sure about how modern men felt about being clapped on the shoulder by a near-stranger, so he just tapped his fingers on the desk and grinned as he walked away. "I'll meet you downstairs with Elle in about half an hour," he told Loki and Bruce.

"Got it," Bruce said. He had dark circles under his eyes, too. Hopefully the more mature scientist would self-regulate and rest when he needed it.

Elle was already awake and aware, putting the finishing touches on a low bun when Steve walked in. She spent the elevator ride grilling Steve on everything that had happened while she was asleep. "Has Loki looked at Lucinda yet?" she asked as they disembarked into the underground hall.

"I don't think so," Steve replied. "I should have found you a tablet— here." He handed his over, but she brushed it aside.

"Tony or Darren will have one with them. Thanks, though. Are you coming in for this?"

"I'll observe." Steve left her at the stairwell and climbed his way to the glass-paneled room.

Bruce was there. "Hi Cap," he said with a friendly grin. He'd traded his tablet for a Stark brand laptop and he was sitting in one of the observation seats, typing away.

"Anything new?" Steve asked, taking his usual position in front of the intercom button.

"I'm cleaning the data we've got so far. It's just a lot of math," Bruce answered. He shook his head. "Sorry, that sounded condescending. I never know how much you want to hear."

"Anything you want to tell me," Steve said. He watched and listened as Elle greeted their teammates in the room below. Darren and Loki willingly started talking to her, each filling in the other's silence when they paused for breath. Tony just made a quick joke about sleeping in and returned to messing with one of the larger sensors' satellite dishes.

"Well," Bruce said, "I'm going through each time frame by hand right now to make sure they're showing consistently because we don't fully trust every sensor yet. Don't tell Tony I said that; I have more of the trust issues than he does with his tech. Then I'm re-fitting some equations in the programming to filter out some of the light noise and leeching body heat. After you left, I had some agents put the bodies in the freezer to preserve them. Loki said it was fine. So, now that the magic is basically the only energy the bodies are exuding, we can isolate this stuff and try to figure it out some more."

"That makes sense."

"Yeah. Eleanore looks really tired. She not sleep well?"

Steve blinked down at Elle. She did look tired, but not as bad as she had been the night before. And the night before that… "She could probably use a real break," he admitted.

"Those are in short supply these days."

"Maybe after we find this guy," Steve conceded. They wouldn't get much chance beforehand, apparently.

Tony left the room and jogged inside the observation chamber a moment later. He picked up a computer from a bag on one chair and hooked a tiny wireless microphone to his chest. "So," he started, sounding official and bored at the same time, "we've got a test on Body One— chosen because the bag was already unzipped once. We've got sensors C, B, T, and G pointed at the site with sensors H and P monitoring the air quality. Eleanore, code name Princess, ready for testing with Rudolph and the Android. Super Genius, Jolly Green, and Boy Scout observing."

"He's recording the tests for later use," Bruce explained.

Steve let the confusion fade from his face. Elle and Loki and Darren were moving into place over the sealed body bag. Loki touched Elle's forehead and gave her the same directions he'd given Steve: touch the dead body's arm. She did, wrinkling her nose.

"Now try to heal it," Loki said.

"How?" Elle asked in surprise, taking her hand away. "It's— he's dead."

"We just need your power," Darren clarified.

Elle looked at both the men strangely. Steve thought it might be because she couldn't see them clearly through their magic. But she just shrugged in the end and placed her hand back on the arm slowly and carefully. "This is so gross," she remarked, her fingertips starting to glow.

Loki and Darren leaned in. "Keep doing that!" Loki demanded sharply.

"Holy shit," Tony muttered.

"What is it?" Steve asked. He could only see Elle's power, and it wasn't very bright. The body didn't seem to be moving at all. Nothing seemed to be happening.

"Tony," Bruce prompted when the billionaire didn't answer, "broadcast what you're seeing to my tablet."

Tony still didn't move or speak, but his hand clicked a few times, and then Bruce was holding up his own device that showed a dimming, almost invisible body lying in front of a nearly-as-dim Elle and the respectively brighter Darren and Loki. In a few more seconds, the body faded completely and Elle's outline took her hand away.

"Once more," Loki said immediately.

Steve checked Elle out in reality and found she didn't look too tired yet. He watched as Darren wheeled 'Body One' out of the way and Loki pushed another one into place. This was a woman, possibly older. Her face was crumpled inward, broken beyond real recognition, but the I.D. Bruce pulled up on his tablet showed she had been fifty-six with no emergency contact listed in association with her driver's license. Rachael Byrns.

The sensors showed her body as a relatively bright spot, almost matching Darren. That was, until Elle reached out and touched her arm. The light pulled toward her in a stomach-twisting heap, a little wave threatening to overwhelm anything in its path. But that wave dimmed from the inside like the reverse of a blush. Within a minute, Ms. Byrns' body was as dark as the previous man's.

"I'll be done now, unless you're going to let me have another nap," Elle decided.

Like before, Loki did a double-take when she spoke. "Hm? Oh, yes. Leave the last body for comparison."

"Is that what you did at the scene?" Darren asked.

"No, I did what I normally do."

"What you 'normally do'?" Loki pressed. "You 'normally' cause a great deal of power to rush you, and then you neutralize it?"

"I thought you saw it when I messed up the microbots that one time." Elle squinted around and then up at the window. "I want my eyes back."

Loki tapped her forehead. "The microbots at the hospital weren't the same at all, you simply disabled them with steam. The magic was still there. Tiryaki spoke to me."

Elle shrugged. "Welp. It was kind of like that. I still don't quite know what you're talking about. The smell is starting to get to me, too."

"Same here," Darren admitted. "Want to talk about this up in the lab?"

Loki nodded assent. He waved a hand and the bags zipped back over the bodies. The gurneys wheeled into the freezer room which had been set up at some point when Steve was upstairs.

"Back up?" Tony confirmed. "That means it's our turn, Bruce."

"I'll take Body One to a CAT scan," Bruce confirmed.

"I've got Body Two for a temp test and a retinal scan and…" Tony and Bruce left the room while the shorter man was still rattling off tests.

Steve went out the other door that let him into the hall. The elevator took a long time to open, and it held only a couple of unfamiliar agents who shuffled back to make room. Steve knew he probably looked ridiculous, wearing his uniform and shield for so long in a relatively safe location, but he didn't want any more surprises to come while he was unprepared. He put his back to a wall and let the other agents out with the typical nod-with-no-smile of this time.

The lab was brighter and louder now. The windows were clear, allowing the clear dawn to cast coral rays up through the trees and the city's buildings.

Loki, Darren, Eleanore, and Cecil were all clustered around one desk. Darren was in the desk chair controlling the computer's mouse and the other three were leaning over and directing him at intervals.

"No, angle fifteen degrees down and back it up again," said the normally-quiet Cecil.

Steve walked over without a word. Even with his height, he had trouble seeing through the heads pressed so close together. But he was diverted from his curiosity for a moment when he noticed that Loki's arm was actually touching Darren's shoulder at some points and jostling Cecil on his other side. The demigod seemed too focused on the screen to pay attention to this. Too focused and too comfortable.

This was… amazing. Steve knew he was witnessing a moment of rare abandon, something he hadn't even known Loki was capable of. He also knew that if he stayed and stared too long, he'd bring this moment to an end.

Steve approached on Darren's other side to lean on the corner of the desk Elle allowed him. She shifted without a word to let him get closer.

The (thankfully large) screen showed a pieced-together collection of the footage of the explosion. Some of the imagery was even three-dimensional, which was the cause of the harried directions between the scientific quartet. The current still showed the exact moment the blast took place, before the shockwave reached any people. The little robot seemed to be crumpling inward like an old tin can that had seen too many kicks. Its chest was all in shadow, and one of its arms was half-gone. The remains shone orange and white under the streetlight and camera flashes.

"One frame further," Loki ordered.

Darren obliged. The robot was now unrecognizable, and the shock wave was visible in some parts of the reconstruction. It had almost reached the first row of people. Darren found an angle where the shockwave didn't distort the robot's body too much and everyone leaned in further.

"It's not exploding," Steve observed. And braced for the sarcastic comment sure to come from Loki.

"It's not," was all the dark-haired man responded. He sounded just as intrigued as he had in the lab, and he didn't look up from the screen when Steve glanced over. His mouth turned downward in thought, and that hand rose to draw a finger across his lip. "From this evidence, I would call the attack an attempt at transporting."

Elle stood up a little straighter and bumped into Steve's chest with her shoulder. "It's doing a bad job, then. That robot is fu— screwed." She barely caught the cursing with a hasty pause and a word that meant pretty much the same thing.

Steve remembered Clint's lessons the previous afternoon and how filled with expletives they had been. He'd thought, with how people took care with their words around SHIELD, that cursing was unprofessional in 2012 more so than it had been in the Army in 1943. Now, he realized people were taking care around him for some reason. A layer of protection for the fragile ice soldier from the past. He decided to let Elle know he was fine with cussing later, not at SHIELD. It could be funny to let one loose when she didn't expect it.

"Yeah, because a robot isn't meant to do a transportation by itself," Darren said. "It's not a set-it-and-forget-it spell."

"I thought you couldn't do this?" Elle asked.

"I can't, but I've studied it. And when I tried to send something, it ended up in a smoking little ball, probably a lot like this."

Loki straightened up and crossed his arms. "You crushed it, trying to pull it through a space that didn't exist. It's a common mistake for a novice."

Steve noted and liked how Darren didn't bristle either when Elle mentioned something he couldn't do, or when Loki called him a novice. The younger Stark just nodded eagerly. "Yeah, and I was only about eighteen when I tried it. I should take another look at the research now. I think my overall problem is not enough power, though."

"It is," Loki agreed without any malice. "However, the 'research' could be helpful. You have physical copies?"

"They're all I have. I didn't want to scan them into our system in case my dad tried to mess with something from them. I can bring them the next time I come over here?"

"Perhaps."

"So," Steve chimed in again, figuring he should talk while he still understood their conversation, "this means the magician wasn't really trying to get you."

"It's a transport," Elle pointed out, "they could have been trying to literally 'get us,' just not bomb us."

Loki shook his head at her. "No, you're assigning them too much wisdom. If they were trying to steal us— or, more likely, me— then they should have waited to transport their robot until we were— or I was— closer."

Elle's eyebrow shot up with the look. "They could have been trying to get me both times. There's the meadow thing, too."

Loki returned her look with one of his own, though his contained condescension. "The 'meadow thing' happened on the rare occasion your dragon left the apartment. It's just as I said last night; the magician is targeting powerful magical creatures. You just happen to accompany us."

Steve spoke up before they could sidetrack into a useless argument. "So you think the robot in the meadow was transported too?"

"That seems likely. You saw for yourself— it's useless to study something if it's dead. There's no life force, no magic to read from it."

Steve inwardly winced at the mention of the dead people over fifty floors below. He knew distance was good for scientists and, apparently, magic-scientists… But, he remembered, Loki had helped keep people alive at the scene. That was more important. And whatever they discovered here would help save more lives. "We should be on the lookout for these, then. Next time, they could get closer to us."

"That spell Loki has on you two is insane," Darren mused, now scrolling back and forth through the explosion. From this angle, Steve could see Loki being blasted back while Elle stayed in place, throwing her hands over her face as a flash finally lit the lenses white.

"You don't need to worry about being blown up," Loki confirmed. "Not by this, at least."

Cecil, who'd gone quiet again, pointed to the screen. "It even protected her from the shockwave?"

"That's not right," Elle blurted, "Loki said it won't stop bullets."

"I added a layer today, in case we met with something more dangerous than mortal factory workers." Loki waved his hand. "No need to thank me for saving your life."

"Thank you," Elle said anyway. "So now I'm bulletproof?"

"No, I just took that layer of protection off. It feeds off your energy, so having too much in place would be a constant drain. In this building, at least, I would hope you don't need it."

They were lucky Loki had left it on place for as long as he had, then. With Elle on the outskirts of the explosion, she probably would have survived, just not without injury. She probably wouldn't have been able to help people. There would be more bodies in the morgues.

"You should carry your suit around," Darren said. "And those bracelet things…"

Elle rolled her eyes, really annoyed. "Again, no to the bracelet things." She crossed her arms, and gave Darren a stubborn look, which then slid to Cecil. "And you should be asleep. You got like what? An hour?"

"I'm alright for a while longer," Cecil promised.

"No, go rest until Agent Hughes gets here," Elle commanded. "And I mean rest. We'll need you to be at your best today."

Cecil caved and left the room. He didn't look too miffed, Steve decided, and he did still look exhausted.

Loki also branched off to a window, where he gazed over the river. Elle pulled a chair over and sat beside Darren, who started talking about the theory behind transportations.

Steve listened for a while, then started listening more attentively, as Loki drifted closer and started correcting Darren's terminology. Apparently, Darren had studied an ancient text on the subject, while Loki had been alive to oversee the implementation of new literature. On Alfheim.

"So you wrote a book?" Elle asked.

"No, I oversaw the… experimentation, you'd call it. I merely contributed my observations to the scholars who did the actual writing."

Elle, who was sitting on her knees with her elbows on the desk, still looked very impressed.

Steve was, too, though his awe encompassed all three of his teammates as they continued the discussion. Darren was so quick to pick up a new idea, sometimes he'd finish Loki's sentences with the correct new answer as his excited mind made connections. Loki, meanwhile, seemed to enjoy teaching these two. He bent over and leaned one hand on the desk top, gesturing with the other. And Elle clarified the lessons so quickly with simpler terms and questions. "So, you're making a new space that doesn't exist for just a split second, and then you're dragging us through it, and if you don't make the space stable enough, it makes Steve and I sick? … and so, the longer the distance, the less stable the space. Yeah, that makes sense…" and best of all, "So how does the magician mess this up so badly?"

The sun rose and the explanations continued. There were so many ways to mess up a transport, according to Loki, that it was tough to narrow this down. Elle had started a list of possibilities when the clock on the wall struck eight and a portly middle-aged man walked into the lab.

Steve's first impression was blandness. From the suit to the laptop bag this man carried, the overall effect left no real impression. Gray, receding hair, short stature, laugh lines around his mouth and wrinkles around gray eyes. A professional smile and greeting as first Elle then Steve stepped forward to welcome him to the team.

"So you've been briefed," Elle stated as soon as Hughes had been introduced to the other two men, "and we can get started. Grab a desk, and I'll tell you what we're looking for."

"Yes, ma'am," Agent Hughes said with a smile.

Steve retreated back to Loki and Darren's desk, since Elle had this in hand. It was strange just how little work he had to do now, compared to when she'd been asleep. And so much more information was flowing, and so much more quickly… They did need their communications officer around.

Agent Hughes proved to be exactly as his file had described him. After half an hour's instructions from Elle, he was tapping away at his keyboard and pulling up document after document of research to add to the shared summary.

Meanwhile, Loki and Darren concluded that they didn't know the exact cause of the triggered explosion, and that they each needed to look into it further. Loki took a desk near the hall door, and Steve decided it was time to start with Lucinda Meyers.

"What do you think of Agent Hughes?" Elle asked as soon as the door closed on them in the hallway.

"He seems fine so far," Steve answered. He motioned to the cot room door. "You gonna wake Cecil up?"

"No, he didn't sleep last night, and there's nothing for him to do yet. He can have a couple more hours."

They had to stop talking on the elevator ride and on the way down the hall to the interrogation room because of all the other agents now showing up to work. Thankfully, only Clint was present in the observation room with its three dark walls offset by the one made of one-way glass.

"Coffee's over there," Clint informed them first, gesturing to a little cart with a giant container on it. "Or I hear Tony got an espresso machine for the caf."

"This is good, thanks," Elle said, pouring Steve a cup and then adding cream and sugar to her own. "What do we have here, then?"

"She hasn't said anything," Clint reported. "Just 'please' once in a while, but not for a long time now. No breaks, so Nat's going to head in there soon."

"No… bathroom breaks?" Elle clarified.

"Not yet. She hasn't asked, either."

Elle's lips thinned in a frowning line, but she didn't say anything.

Steve didn't mind this treatment. It had only been a few hours; Meyers wasn't going to drown yet. And she'd been responsible for so many deaths. "What have the sensors given us?"

"Nothing much." Clint handed over a tablet, which showed Meyers' outline with nothing emanating from her yellow-to-red body. "No flares, as far as we can see either."

The door to the interrogation room opened and Natasha walked in. She was wearing a soft blue shirt and jeans, and her hair was held back by a white headband. Disarming, right down to her wide-open eyes.

"Hi there," she said to Lucinda, "My name's Natalie. Can I get you anything?"

Meyers just looked at her, blankly. There was nothing in that gaze, no stubbornness, no protest.

There was another little cart in the room with a pitcher of water on it and some paper cups. Natasha poured two and set one in front of Meyers while taking a sip of her own. Then she sat back down again and leaned forward. Her posture reminded Steve of Elle, when they'd have coffee in the morning while seated at the little counter in one apartment or another.

"Lucinda," Natasha began, "do you know why you're here?"

Nothing. Not even a blink.

Beside Steve, Elle bent forward to rest her fingertips on the windowsill.

"You getting anything?" Clint asked her.

"Yeah, anxiety. But not in response to Natasha."

A few more questions brought the same lack of response. It was like Lucinda Meyers had gone deaf.

"I can go get Loki?" Steve suggested. "See if there's something… on her?"

"Hang on," Elle said. She held out a hand and Clint gave her the tablet. Both men crowded to look over her shoulder as she pulled up Lucinda's file and medical history. There was a list of drugs, some abandoned, others still recommended. "Let's get her these prescriptions," Elle said. "And a bathroom break, if we can get that kind of response out of her. No shower, though, just in case that washes some magic off."

"You got it," Clint agreed, taking the device back. He held his other hand up to his ear. "Nat, you get that? We're trying drugs."

Natasha got up and left the interrogation room without a word.

Elle looked up at Steve. "It might be a few hours before we start seeing any kind of results from the medicine. Want to go back upstairs?"

Steve nodded. "I'll meet you there. I'll make the rounds of the lab down below first."

"Okay."

The underground lab no longer held two bodies— well, not two corpses. Tony and Bruce were still there. Bruce sat on one of the metal carts, his legs dangling to the floor, with several screens of data suspended in front of him. Tony milled around restlessly, alternating between Bruce's screens and the sensors that still circled the premises.

"Hey, the Boy Scout's back," Tony greeted him.

"Something new?" Bruce asked.

"Well," Steve began, "we've got some three-dimensional renderings from the explosion upstairs. And Loki and Darren are calling this another failed attempt at transporting now."

"Why's that?" Bruce asked.

Shit. There was a reason, there were a lot of them, but they didn't make much sense to Steve. "The… robot. Crumpled. We can see that it was sort of crushing inward, not exploding. Loki said it was a transport when he saw that."

Tony scoffed and walked closer to pat Steve on the arm. "It's okay, we won't tell anyone you weren't 'always prepared'."

"Do they think this guy was trying to transport Loki and Eleanore?" Bruce was still calm, understanding.

And Steve could answer him. "No, they don't think so."

Elle took over the explanation from there until Bruce and Tony left a few minutes later. Then she spoke with Agent Hughes, who had lots of clarifying questions about the research. Steve thought the older man talked more in-depth than was strictly necessary, but he already seemed to respect Elle more than any of the other scientists had. He also seemed content with the long stretches seated in front of his computer and the short breaks to report his findings. He didn't ask about the rest of the investigation, he just listened when Elle filled him in on some of the details. And, when he was dismissed, he started typing away again.

"Where's Loki?" Elle asked suddenly.

Steve looked around. "Thought he was in the bathroom." But it had been well over an hour since they returned to this floor, and the demigod should probably be back by now.

Elle apparently agreed. She bent next to Steve's desk and started tapping at the computer keys furiously. Windows opened, minimized, loaded, scanned a recent image of Loki's face. "Found him. He's talking to Clint on the detention level."

Something about that felt wrong. Some things. Steve got up and walked around the desk to look over her shoulder. "Audio?"

"Keep your pants on." Elle clicked around, trying to figure the program out. It wasn't very intuitive. A lot of the tools were hidden away in random side-menus.

"There," Steve suggested, pointing to something that said, 'Comm'. If it stood for communication, then that had to go both ways, right?

Elle clicked on it, but nothing seemed to happen. "How old is this piece of—" she cut herself off when Loki and Clint both looked up at the camera.

Loki grinned, quick and sharp. He said something, but Steve couldn't read the words from his silently-moving lips. He looked back down at Clint and said something else, which caused him to give a terse nod. The archer turned around and let a wall panel scan his eye. The door next to them slid open. Loki walked through.

"Shit." Elle shot out of her chair and sprinted for the hall door. She tapped her bracelets as she went, and her suit formed while she stepped into the hall.

Steve was right beside her, silently agreeing with the choice of curse. That was the interrogation room, where Lucinda Meyers was being held. He stayed with Elle, deciding the elevator would be quicker than the stairs for sixty flights. They boarded one which was, thankfully, empty.

Elle hit the floor number. "If you have a speed setting, use the fastest one," she ordered the ceiling.

" _Yes, Agent Engman_ ," the AI replied. The elevator dropped more quickly.

"What do you think—" Steve had been going to ask, 'What do you think he's trying to do?' but he stopped speaking as the elevator halted and the lights went out.

"What _now_?" Elle demanded.

" _There is an emergency on the detention level. All transportations are halted to ensure everyone_ _'s safety_."

"We're going to the detention level to help with the emergency," Steve said, trying to reason with the voice.

" _I am sorry. Protocols dictate that all elevators will remain still until the emergency status is cleared_."

"Override," Elle ordered.

" _Neither you, Agent Engman, nor Captain Rogers have the clearance to override this protocol._ "

"Who the hell does?"

"Language," Steve said, knowing they were probably being recorded. Elle had some outbursts, and that was okay, but SHIELD valued professionalism.

Elle gave him a look. "Well, it's not whom the hell."

" _Director Fury or Agent Hill must clear the alert,_ " the AI said. " _They are investigating the source of the emergency. Estimated wait time twenty minutes based on past enactments of this protocol._ "

Steve eyed the doors. Nothing had clicked into place when the elevator stopped. The overhead panel showed that they were on floor thirty-four in red numbers. He reached out and pried the panels apart with his fingers. It was actually pretty easy.

"Oh, nice," Elle complimented. They were actually between floors, so she dropped and scooted out onto the thirty-third level first.

Steve followed as quickly as he could. He landed in an empty hallway. Everything was quiet; not even footsteps echoed.

That didn't sit right. "Elle, get behind me," he whispered, unhooking his shield from his back and brandishing it.

She was already halfway down the hall, and she turned back with a frown. "Why?"

Steve shrugged off his concern and avoided answering with something along the lines of he was the leader and Elle should listen to him in such a clearly unsafe situation. She wasn't actually a soldier, after all, and she could take care of herself pretty well. He wordlessly stepped forward and put himself in front of her, brandishing his shield.

She fell in line behind him, taking out her asps. "I should probably just listen now, huh?"

"We'll work together," Steve decided. Elle knew the Triskelion pretty well, and she might know the details of this 'protocol'. "Why are the halls so empty?"

"This level is paperwork. These agents will stay in their offices until the alert is cleared. Oh, and we'll probably meet some agents clearing the building. They might tell us to get inside rooms, too."

Those agents would be out of luck. Steve glanced around and listened hard. He couldn't hear anything amiss, other than the profound silence. He was acutely aware that every second they stood there was another second Loki was probably in danger. "Let's head for the stairs. I'll go in first, you cover our tail. Let me know if you sense anything strange."

"Okay." Elle followed him to the stairwell door, which was locked. Steve forced this one open as well and they began their descent.

It went pretty quickly. Steve had to slow himself down a couple of times so Elle could keep up, but she didn't complain. They used gravity to their advantage, but they stayed quiet. Steve had his ears trained for anything that might signal an attack. It occurred to him that the most likely cause of this whole thing was that Loki had done something to set off an alert, but he wouldn't let his guard down until both of his teammates were safely by his side.

They made it to the detention levels, where the stairway cut off. They still had two floors to go, but from here their path was a bit less clear. The staircases were far apart to help prevent simple escapes. And this door in front of them was locked with a much stronger combination. Steve knew from his own homework that SHIELD double-guarded these doors with one heavy steel plate that locked on the right-hand side and another plate coated with some new-fangled iron alloy that locked on the left.

"Can your shield get that?"

Steve considered it, then considered her. "Why are you whispering?"

"I dunno. Oh! Don't hit it. Let's try these." She unscrewed the handle of one of her asps and took out one of the digital lockpicks. The door beeped and slid aside.

There were, indeed, agents clearing this hall. They paused at the sight of Steve and Eleanore. "Hey, you two…"

"This is a stupid fight for you," Elle dismissed them as Steve said, "Not now, Son."

The agents let them continue. Steve let Elle 'hack' the next door as well.

"We should have taken one of their access cards," Elle observed. "These only work like two times? We have two more tries."

"We can remember that for next time," Steve joked. They were finally down to the correct floor. He paused in front of this doorway. "You getting anything?"

Elle shook her head. "Loki's out there, but he's pretty faint. Far away. I don't think he's worried. It's hard to tell because so many people in there are."

"Same as before, then," Steve instructed, "stay behind me, and give me directions."

"Got it."

No one tried to stop them this time. The human agents were all frozen, their guns drawn, pointed at each corner. They had to circumvent most of the level before they found a familiar face: Clint with his own handgun drawn.

"Took you two long enough," he commented.

"What's going—"

Steve's question was blasted apart by the interrogation room door, which blew off its hinges and hit the opposite wall. The sound shot stars behind his eyes, and he felt the shock rumble through his bones. Clint fell backward into his chest, and Elle's hand grabbed his shoulder so she could stay upright.

It was like the lightning all over again, only this time Steve was having trouble hearing. "Loki?" he tried to call. It sounded so muffled until tingling shot up from his shoulder and cleared everything up in an instant.

Elle, the source of the tingling, stepped around him. "Loki?" she also called, folding her helmet back.

Loki emerged from the doorway, glowing golden, unharmed. "Well," he said when he met Elle's eyes, "now we know they weren't targeting you."

 _ **Thanks for waiting so patiently! I really haven**_ _ **'t given up on this story! I've just been writing that book as well. I'm going to try to make the next chapter much shorter, and I hope to have it updated much more quickly. It already has 9,000 words, though that doesn't seem to mean much regarding the delay or lack thereof ;). Again, thank you all for sticking with this story!**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thanks! I only wish this chapter wasn**_ _ **'t so close to 'real life' events going on lately, though heroes do come out during the times of crisis, as we're also seeing. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **Thanks so much for your comment! I really enjoy writing Loki and his growth. And yeah, I**_ _ **'m enjoying Loki finding his own voice, even when it's raised in disapproval.**_

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thanks for reading! I love hearing your thoughts!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	32. Chapter 32: L Day In The Sun

"Are you sure you didn't get hurt?" Eleanore asked for the fifth time.

"Quite sure," Loki said again with a chuckle. This was the most fun he'd had in a while, witnessing real shock from the mortals and finally, _finally_ getting some answers from the magician.

"You knew the blast was coming this time?" Steve queried. The Captain hadn't had much chance to speak until now, on their quiet elevator ride back up to the parking garage. Between Fury berating Clint for letting Loki into that interrogation room unsupervised and then the Director's ire at Steve and Eleanore for breaking 'protocol' and compromising the integrity of one of the elevator cars, and then the general buzz of questioning that ended with orders to get out of the Triskelion before they made anything else go wrong… It had been an interesting couple of hours.

Loki smiled at the man who still instinctively acted as a shield between Fury and the 'Avengers'. "There's a saying on Nidavellir: 'Students process while masters improvise.' I knew this human has a very limited skillset. Now that he's showcased all his works, there's nothing left for him to surprise us with."

"So, accidentally squishing things when he tries to transport them, Either intentionally or unintentionally blowing people up, and sending threatening messages through microbots?" Eleanore supplied, buckling herself into the back seat of the Jarvis-controlled car.

"Precisely." And what a pathetic attempt at a threat it had been. " _I gave you a chance to join me, now you_ _'ll suffer the consequences of your choice._ " Loki had asked what sort of consequences, and the fool had responded with vagaries and promised regret.

"What?" Eleanore asked in response to Loki's chuckle.

"Nothing. I'm just not impressed with the criminals your world has to offer."

Steve shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat. "You think he's not a real threat?"

"Not to me," Loki clarified. "Obviously, your average mortals should avoid entanglement until we've caught him."

"So how do we catch him?" Eleanore asked.

The rest of the car ride and the rest of the evening were spent in planning, plotting, and research. The drones had picked nothing up that would indicate the magician's location, but he _had_ to be nearby. Near enough for novice spellcasting with a thick enough cover and a large enough space to hide from the sensors that had been combing over the city and its surroundings since the night before. Either they had a power source or a relic of remarkable capability.

After supper, Eleanore left, saying she needed to meet with Pepper at the Tower for a couple of hours to go over the press plan and make her statements. That left Loki with Steve and Charlie, as Jet followed his human companion for once.

Steve wanted to focus on protection, of course, and he questioned Loki closely on every available mode of prevention for keeping the magician from harming any more innocents. Loki went along with it and tried not to make too many jests. Steve rolled over said jests and stuck to the facts. They decided to stick together in public as much as possible, and perhaps to look into those bracelets Darren had suggested to Eleanore. Perhaps sensors could be included in them for the mortals, so they could sense another robot nearby.

"Is that very likely?" Steve asked. "I mean, you didn't even know about this one."

"No, but it may make you feel better," Loki replied.

Steve huffed and shook his head. Grinned. "Thanks, Loki. I mean it, even though that sounded sarcastic. We'll catch this guy."

"I can hardly wait," Loki drawled while the Captain rose and headed for the door.

After that, the apartment was quiet. Loki was tired, but his mind was moving too quickly for sleep. He stayed awake, alternately memorizing the pictures on the living room wall and petting Charlie and rationalizing this magician's motives. They seemed so futile. Familiarly futile. Disconcerting.

He retired to his room before Eleanore got back. She was there in the morning, and they left around noon for the Triskelion, where the cleanup was reportedly coming to an end. Loki met and instantly disliked Stan Hughes, the deferential little mud-crawler. But, over the course of the day, he found that Eleanore had more time to mediate between Loki, Steve, and the Starks. By the day's end, they eliminated a fair few locations through site visits armed with sensors and caution. Abandoned, crumbling brick structures along the waterfront, empty housing developments with work halted due to a budget shortage. The sewers were Eleanore's suggestion. Loki took a risk and sent magic with some of Darren's smaller drones to avoid the stench. Thankfully, that idea was a 'bust'.

They went back to the apartment at Steve's suggestion. There, the Captain retreated to his quarters to work on some chores and Eleanore did the same.

Loki glanced up from the fifth Harry Potter book as Eleanore grunted her way through the hall door and plopped a basket of laundry in front of the couch. Frigga would have told him to help a lady with that sort of thing, relieving her of a burden and acting the gallant prince. An Asgardian lady would have expected it, too.

Eleanore just grinned at him and motioned to the book. "What part are you at?"

"Nearly the end," Loki answered. He didn't want to discuss the series with her; Eleanore had tried to approach it several times since he'd begun reading the books and Loki cut her off every time. Discussing would mean actually showing an interest not only in this 'homework' but in what she had to say. It was a bit much.

She didn't pursue it, anyway, walking into her bedroom and coming back with a handful of plastic clothes hangars. She began sorting her clothing on the couch, humming under her breath.

Loki watched her, now sufficiently distracted from the trials and tribulations of a teenage human boy with not the slightest inkling of real magic. There was something gnawing at the back of his mind. A weakness he needed to remember about this woman.

"So, do you want to start watching the movies tonight?" she offered.

There was nothing better to do. "Why not?" Loki asked, still trying to figure out what he should be aware of.

"Cool." She stacked her underthings on the couch cushions in plain sight. Another thing a lady wouldn't do. But mutant women from Earth didn't have time for compunctions of that nature, apparently.

 _Mutant_. That was part of it. Part of the reason their night would be filled with mortal movies and popcorn and staying in this apartment. She was exposed now, under the public eye, and they were not pleased. More than not pleased— many called her things that made the veins on Steve's neck stand out, his blue eyes snap. Eleanore ignored it, avoided it. She said they would find something else to gripe about in a couple of weeks.

But it wasn't only the huddled, horrid masses she had to please. _How could I have forgotten?_ Loki wondered. _Because she never mentioned it. Because it never came up, not in days_ _…_

"How is your father taking the news?" he asked abruptly. Saving the question could be sweet, but it could also lose him the advantage of solitude and surprise.

Eleanore's head snapped to face him like she'd been slapped. She frowned, brown eyes wide, and that hesitation told Loki everything he needed to know.

Still, he waited for her reply. It was… entertaining to see her searching for words. Entertaining in an uncomfortable way. He didn't like that she was in pain, but he felt gratified, somehow. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach warred with the triumph in his mind. _How will you face this sort of rejection, mm?_ He waited eagerly for the transformation from surprise to anger or sadness or… whatever it was he felt twisting his heart when he thought of Asgard and Thor and Odin.

He got a weak grin and a shrug. "Well, he wasn't happy with it," Eleanore admitted.

This was acting, and a poor excuse at that. "Really?" Loki pressed with a flippant raise of his brow. "How did he inform you of that?"

Eleanore cocked her head at him and her grin grew. "Yelling, mostly. It wasn't very coherent."

 _She knows I_ _'m trying to push her off-balance_. It was too late to back out, now. Loki changed his skeptical expression for something more sympathetic. "That must have been unpleasant."

"Kinda, since I was so tired. He called the other night when we were at SHIELD," she explained, "kinda ranted for a while. Darren was there just before the phone rang, that's why you didn't hear it through the walls."

 _Inconvenient_. What else could he ask? Should he back out, or push forward? Would she break, ever? But if he hesitated too long, she'd have another advantage. "What came of this discussion?"

"Well, I let him go on for a while, but I wasn't really in the mood to hear it. When he said he was coming down here to talk to me in person, I told him I wouldn't be home and he could save his time and just decide whether he wanted to claim me anymore."

Those words were out of place coming from the wry smile and crinkled eyes. But… Loki looked closer. Eleanore's chin jutted defiantly, and that smile wasn't actually happy, it was armor.

 _She_ _'s protecting herself from me_. Shoving information at him, giving him exactly what he'd asked for and then some. The opposite way Loki would have done it, but it was still effective. Eleanore hid nothing because then no one could harm her with secrets.

Now that he finally understood that (and once he shoved down the shame that it'd taken him this long to figure it out) Loki inwardly smiled. He knew her shielding; now to find the chink. And sometimes, blunt force could show fissures. "So did he disown you?"

Eleanore's grin turned wistful. "No," she said, "it would have been easier if he had, though, huh?"

She was asking him, asking for some kind of reply. Loki frowned. "How so?" How was she comfortable with this? What did she mean?

"I mean… it would have been easier if he didn't want anything to do with me anymore, I guess. Easier in a sad way. I wouldn't have to make choices, is what I'm saying. And I wouldn't have to go through the whole explaining thing, telling him why I kept this a secret for years."

"That is simple enough," Loki pointed out when she paused. "He hates mutants, and you are a mutant."

Eleanore nodded at him. "Yeah, that's why. But… it's a weird situation. He doesn't remember things. Not the way they were, anyway. Like…" her eyes narrowed, "… are you sure you want to hear about this?"

Loki really didn't know what he wanted, except that he wanted to remember not to start conversations like this to get under Eleanore's skin. It always backfired. Better to stick with baiting Steve and Tony Stark. But he'd dug himself this hole. He gave an un-princely shrug. "I don't care either way. Explain if you wish."

"It's boring, I bet," Eleanore decided, returning to her laundry more slowly than before. "Family drama always is, to people who aren't related."

Loki wondered if she was bored by the drama from Asgard's royal family, and then he wondered just how much of it she knew. That was another thing that hadn't come up. But it could wait. He shook his head. "I fail to see how one could forget a hatred of your own daughter's kind."

Even as he said the words, they rang false. They stabbed and twisted and whispered every insult against Frost Giants he'd ever heard. Now, all his triumph had fled and his stomach threatened to rebel. Before his eyes, his hands turned blue. " _Am I cursed?_ " " _No._ " Lies.

"It's a weird psychological thing, I think," Eleanore answered him, for once apparently unaware of Loki's internal disquiet. "I mean, I've tried to figure it out before. Like how does my dad not remember yelling at me from the day before? Or a week, or a month? I figured some stuff out as I got older, and I think it's because _his_ dad was even _worse_ to him. He remembers that, and he's kinda told me about it, but he justifies it when he talks about it. There's a term for that, but I don't remember it right now. It means the victim of something horrible tries to reason the trauma out, to find something positive from it. So. That's what I think happens." She finished folding her clothes and started placing them in the basket one group at a time. "Anyway, when I try to bring up some of the issues I have, he just denies them. So that's what I mean by choices— I have to decide whether it's worth it to fight him on it."

Horribly, horribly familiar. Close. Exactly what he'd wanted from this discussion, but not like this. Why wasn't she _enraged_? "How can you accept this so calmly?" Loki demanded. He needed an answer, like a drowning man needed a rescuing length of rope.

Another shrug and another grin. "I've had time to accept it. I was angry when I was younger, but it never helped. Like I said, he denies it if I bring it up."

"So he shouts and you listen?" That was pathetic and wrong and _weak_. It was something Loki would never do again. He'd fight, he'd claw his way through the throne room's stone walls if Odin tried to sit him down for such a chat.

"No, I stop him when it gets too bad. Or, remember? I leave. Are you okay?"

Loki blinked, and Odin's disapproving scowl was replaced with Eleanore's more open concern. He looked down at his hands and found he was denting the cover of the book with his fingers. He loosened his grip and fixed it in an instant. The magic gave him more focus. "Yes," he lied.

She didn't believe him this time. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."

"I asked for an explanation," Loki said, dismissing her apology. She had nothing to be sorry for. He cast about for something to say, to prove he was fine, and forced a smile. "So when do I have the pleasure of meeting _your_ absent paternal figure?"

Eleanore chuckled. "I don't think I'll set a date for that. I'd prefer it to be never, but sometimes he just shows up."

"Does he know you live with Avengers? Specifically, with Steven Rogers, who is more than willing to rip out the tongue of anyone who dishonors you?"

Another chuckle, and she stood with her basket on her hip. "No, I haven't told him that. He'd tell other people. I _really_ don't want Steve to meet him," she continued over her shoulder as she headed into her room.

Now was his chance to escape. Loki eyed his own door with longing, wishing he hadn't committed to the movies tonight. But that would be cowardly, running from this child who unwittingly gutted him with words. So, instead, he stood and set the book aside. Walked to the threshold of Eleanore's room and leaned his shoulder against the door frame. "Why not? That might be cathartic."

"Nah," Eleanore said from in front of a bunch of open drawers.

"I don't think you have enough experience with revenge to decide."

"Well, I have enough experience with myself to know that if I hurt someone I love, it only hurts me more. One of my special skills is making myself feel guilty." Humor and conspiracy.

Loki crossed his arms. "That's why you won't leave him yourself."

Eleanore pointed at him as she hung her shirts in her closet. "You got it. I told you it's dramatic."

"And boring." It was boring from a conflict perspective. But Loki felt drawn in. His own reaction reminded him of an instance from his childhood, when he and Thor had followed a fellow child to see the child's father's 'box of scraps' from the Ice War.

"It's ears," _the boy had said. Hiddlfur was his name, Loki recalled. Now, he was a baker like his post-war father before him._

"Ears?!" _Thor had exclaimed. Loki had echoed him because he knew he should, even as he tried to find a way out of it._

 _Hiddlfur nodded solemnly and turned back from his father_ _'s bottom desk drawer. His hands held a box around the size of one of Loki's lesson books. It had a lock and a latch. Hiddlfur had a key._

 _Everything in Loki_ _'s body willed him to retreat, but he couldn't make it. He was twelve, he'd heard stories of the brave soldiers. He leaned forward with a sick sense of curiosity._

 _The ears were large and blue with bits of dried blood. They were lined up horizontally along the box: six across in three rows. Eighteen._

"My father says he only took them when he had time," _Hiddlfur informed them in a whisper._ "He killed almost a hundred. He says the Ice-Blooded monsters froze their dead as they retreated, just to make them tougher to clean up."

 _Thor listened with rapt attention. Loki heard, but he couldn_ _'t take his eyes off the ears._

"Do you want to sit down?" Eleanore invited. Her basket was empty and she motioned to the chair in front of her desk.

"No," Loki decided easily. The space was too intimate, too _Eleanore_. He could see Lydia's smile accusing him from the photos. " _Why are you harassing my daughter?_ _" I'll tell you when I have an answer,_ he replied.

That answer didn't surface in the week following the magician's attack. Loki found himself immersed in the work, sifting through metals and alloys, visiting each suspected site and learning from Clint the typical SHIELD protocols for 'fieldwork'. Loki was better at following these than Eleanore usually was; she got too excited about a new idea, so she'd stop to think it through while they were exploring something else entirely. Steve was usually the one to remind her to focus, but Loki had smugly performed the task more than once, when he didn't feel himself getting dragged along her path of inquiry.

Loki frequently spotted SHIELD agents around the apartment building, especially during the first few days following the magician's last attack. They didn't intervene with anything, and Loki only identified them from the strange way they stared and the way Eleanore pointed them out when they got too close.

After a few days, they had received their first good news: Jane Foster was willing to work with them to help catch this magician. She would handle her own research remotely from an undisclosed location and send them encrypted files of her findings. Tony and Darren and Bruce were excited to work with her, even distantly. They eagerly caught her up on all their discoveries to date.

Loki avoided speaking to Foster in person. He was thankful for the lack of thunderstorms over the course of the week as well, even though it sank the city into sweltering heat. He slept fitfully, ate when the mortals did, and gradually felt himself wearing down. He snapped more easily at Darren's stupid questions, at Tony's incessant jibes, once even at Bruce, who forgave him right away and showed no sign of terrifying green. Loki had another nightmare about the Hulk that night, focused on his own pain instead of others'.

Of course, Loki clashed most with Eleanore and Steve. They seemed to coordinate for this, though, always taking the patient route now. Steve accepted and absorbed whatever criticism Loki leveled at him, even in the sparring ring. Eleanore cocked her head and gave Loki food or water or something to distract himself with once he finished the Harry Potter series.

Loki wished the books would have focused more on the Hufflepuffs so he could understand her better.

Lydia was also patient. She was the one who listened most because she was the one to whom Loki actually spoke. He told her how insipid he found this magician now, how frustrated he was that they couldn't just find and kill them. So much time wasted, so many new nightmares to fight off, he woke every day from a desperate battle to face another one.

Until one morning. Loki opened his eyes and, for a moment, forgot where he was. The surroundings were familiar enough, but the circumstances of his waking did not coincide with this bedroom in this tiny apartment on Midgard. He was calm. His muscles were relaxed. He did not have a headache, and he wasn't fighting for air.

The clock next to his bed read ten past seven, and he'd gone to sleep at ten o'clock the night before. He felt… amazing. Groggy and confused, but amazing.

 _Is this a dream?_ Loki wondered. He sat up and took stock of himself. It all _felt_ real. These were the sleeping clothes he'd donned the night before in a tired haze. There was the notebook on his desk, opened to the page about atomic mass and energy density. His bedding was rumpled, and when he moved his legs he found cool sheets that had not been warmed by his body. The ceiling fan rotated lazily, barely stirring the air enough to matter. The blinds were raised, and the filmy golden curtains showed a blue sky with a scant few clouds listing past. Birds chirped merrily. Loki could hear traffic on the streets, and as he listened a car stumbled into the parking lot, revved, and shut down. Doors opened and closed.

"Thanks, but you have to leave now," Eleanore whispered from the kitchen.

Loki frowned. Was Darren here? And why would he have to leave? Unless the boy was late for another appointment.

"Let me know how it goes, Princess," Tony Stark replied. "You try to have fun, too."

"I will," Eleanore promised hastily. "Okay, bye. Fly safe."

The hall door opened and closed. Eleanore sighed or yawned; Loki couldn't tell which. She started moving things around very quietly. Unaware that Loki was awake to listen, likely.

He got up, now certain he was not stuck in a dream. Loki quietly retrieved the green shirt Eleanore called 'dressy' and put it on along with black slacks and the comfortable black shoes Pepper Potts had sent. He left the jacket on its hanger. Magic would be more than enough to keep him cool in the hot day ahead.

That done, Loki combed his fingers through his hair in front of the mirror. It was getting longer and curling rebelliously; soon he'd have to trim it or start slicking it back again. But for now, he was content with the way he looked. After a night of actually restful sleep, his eyes had lost some of their haunted hollowness. He felt ready to face whatever the day might hold.

He made sure he had his wallet magically stored, and pulled his cell phone off its charger to rest in his pants pocket. Supplied for modern Midgard, he faced the main room. Before he touched the doorknob, the hall door opened and shut again in quick succession.

"Got it," Steve said. "Actually watched them take it out of the oven. Smells great."

"Amazing, thanks. You can set it on the island," Eleanore responded.

"He still asleep?" Steve asked.

"He's listening to us right now," Eleanore chuckled.

Loki frowned and opened the door. "Your voices do tend to carry," he rebutted, taking stock of the room. "What am I supposed to be ignoring?"

A tired-looking, pajama-clad Eleanore smiled at him over the island, where a square blue box sat. It was about as large as Loki's two hands if he lay them side by side. Steve was also grinning, strangely and genuinely happy. It all added to the surreal feeling Loki had kept since he'd woken up.

"Happy birthday!" the two mortals said together.

Loki hesitated, confused. "This is…" he caught a mischievous twinkle from Eleanore, "… the day you chose."

"Yep," she cheerily confirmed. "June 9th. I picked a Saturday for this year so I could try to get you the whole day off."

"We don't have to report to SHIELD today," Steve added. "But we do have some things planned if you're up for them."

Loki eyed the Captain. The normally stoic, reserved man was oddly chipper. Enthusiastic, even.

 _Oh Bor above, not a party._

Etiquette prevented Loki from voicing that thought, but he did proceed with caution. "What plans are these?"

Eleanore nudged Steve. "Breakfast first," she insisted. "We'll give you the itinerary while we eat."

"Most important meal of the day," Steve agreed, lifting the lid of the blue box.

Baklava lay nestled among waxy, colorful papers that crinkled around the edges to separate each piece.

Loki blinked. "That is— this is hardly…" _Manners._ "… Thank you," he finished lamely. Stepped forward to examine the gift more closely, and found that the pastry was still warm.

"You're welcome," Steve said politely, taking a strange-looking, large green mug from Eleanore and holding it out over the baklava. "I think this is yours, too."

Loki took the mug of tea and examined it. It was dark green all through and covered in golden words of varying sizes. _"Hero, Loki, Mythical, Norse, Saves, Magic, God of Mischief, Avenger."_

"That's from Mom," Eleanore explained. "She designed it online."

Loki would have to speak with Lydia about exaggerated labels and generosity. But for now, he knew the role he should fill: gracious recipient, man of the hour. He summoned three plates from the cupboard and had them hover in the air while he served two pieces of baklava onto each. "A welcome feast."

Eleanore took one of the plates with a smile. "You can tell him the plans, Steve."

Steve took another plate. "We thought of sightseeing," he said. "You and I don't know the city very well, yet, even though we've been here a quite a while. The Smithsonian always has interesting exhibits. We could see the Museum of Natural History, Air and Space, Art… whatever you want, really."

Loki found the reason for this man's cheer as he spoke: Steve _wanted_ to see these things. It was one of the few times Loki had ever seen him excited to face a day.

Eleanore was bouncing on her toes as well. "And then tonight there's a play you might like. It's called _A Midsummer Night_ _'s Dream_. Tony got us great tickets to the eight o'clock show, if you want to go. It's dinner theater." She finally took a bite of baklava, but started speaking right away again. "Of course, if you want to do anything else, we can. You can relax today, stay here and read. Whatever."

Loki was feeling a bit overwhelmed by such early generosity. He knew these mortals had put a great deal of thought into their offerings. He also knew he wouldn't be the one to deprive them of a day of fun. "Your plans sound most diverting," he assured both of them.

"We can have lunch with Mom over by the museums, too," Eleanore informed him.

"Mm." That would give Loki and opportunity to thank Lydia and set her straight on the tea mug. He took a bite of the best baklava he'd ever tasted and decided that he would enjoy the journey today. As long as this peace lasted. As long as he didn't wake up with blood on his hands.

They ate companionably. Loki got Steve to talk about what art museums used to be like in New York, which carried them through the meal with little trouble. Then Eleanore changed into a light purple dress with a flared skirt covered in deep blue flowers, which had strings tied behind her neck in place of sleeves, sandal-like white leather shoes with heels that made her a couple inches taller, and a small black bag with her wallet, phone, and some extra spare change. She said some museums had extra security, so less encumbrance would save time.

They trooped down to the Jarvis car, which found them a quick route through the busy streets and dropped them off in front of what Eleanore and Steve called the 'National Mall'.

"There are a lot of outdoor things, if you feel like walking," Eleanore said.

Loki looked around. "We are near the site of Tiryaki's battle."

"Yeah, the FDR Memorial is right over there." Steve pointed past a tall structure that reached to the sky and across a body of water.

Loki could still see yellow tape cordoning off the area, and workers restoring the rubble pile to its former state. "I don't suppose you anticipate any more fighting today?" he jested, looked around at the huge, ornate buildings and monuments. "We could make a habit of smashing your nation's artwork."

"How about no," Eleanore suggested with a grin. She handed Loki her phone, which displayed a map of their surroundings. She and Steve gathered very close to look on as Loki scrolled around the screen. "So here's what we can walk to: a lot. Steve, the Air and Space Museum is where they want to put your thing. Then there's the Arts and Industries building, and the Natural History Museum. And obviously there's everything outside here."

They both looked up at Loki. "Where would you like to go first?" Steve asked.

Loki looked around, noting that crowds were already gathering to tour the area. "Why not take advantage of the cool morning?" he suggested. "I'm sure there are more memorials we could examine for future battles."

So they went. Between Eleanore and Steve, Loki had very little time for boredom. They walked to the pointed tower first, called the Washington Monument. Steve explained how building had paused and resumed again, which accounted for the slightly different colors in the stone. Eleanore added that the structure was capped with aluminum, which had been considered very rare and valuable at the time of construction.

From there, they walked through the World War II Memorial. Steve grew somber, describing each phase of the war in detail and the challenges the Allies had faced in overcoming the evil of the Axis Powers. Then Eleanore accidentally cheered them up upon sighting the Lincoln Memorial, which was her favorite exhibit. They walked up the great steps, and Loki learned about the war that had nearly torn the United States apart. Eleanore actually gushed as she described Lincoln's presidential terms, ending with his assassination.

Loki looked around from the top of the steps just before they left and noted their close proximity to the Triskelion. He kept it to himself. He was enjoying the exercise, the information, and he did not want to think about the frustrating work ahead of him.

They meandered along the curving, tree-lined paths past the Constitution Gardens, where Eleanore stopped at a food stand and bought plastic bottles of water. Then they continued back toward the museums, taking a quick detour to view the residence of the president.

"A small house," Loki remarked dispassionately.

"It was big for the time," Eleanore told him. "Thomas Jefferson was rich. Because he owned slaves."

There were guards all around that small house with guns and blank stares that scanned each member of the crowd who stopped to take pictures. Eleanore coerced Loki and Steve into a 'selfie,' saying they had to have something to remember this day by. Well, she coerced Loki. Steve was willing to go along with the nonsense. He even held the phone in his longer arms for a better photo.

"Could you just smile for the camera?" Eleanore asked after the fourth attempt when Loki kept frowning at the last second. "It'll be over a lot quicker."

Loki gave the screen his most menacing smile; the one that caused servants to back away and shudder. When Eleanore rolled her eyes at him, he darted his hand to click the camera button and caught her exasperation and Steve's amused half-grin.

"That seems to be a more accurate record of our time together," he chuckled.

Eleanore laughed. "I'm going to send this to Mom. She said noon for lunch, so we have two hours left for museums if you want."

Loki pointedly did _not_ look at Steve, instead letting his eyes track across the green walkways. "Did you not mention an art museum?"

That proved to be the not-so-magic statement that drew Steve's mood into the sun again. He'd been flagging since after the war memorial. Now, he brightened and took the lead with long strides that Loki matched until Eleanore took both their arms and protested jogging in her heeled shoes.

The physical contact was jarring to Loki, though women on Asgard were wont to take men's arms even more than Midgard's women were. It was the fact that Eleanore was doing it, when she usually kept her hands strictly to herself and Darren, and that Loki had not felt friendly hands in… years, he realized.

But she let them go as soon as they slowed their steps enough, and then they walked in a trio up the steps of the National Gallery of Art. Posters advertised someone named Da Vinci, and another person named Monet. Inside the building, arrows pointed them toward an Escher exhibit in a skylit, white room.

Loki thought the works original, even after all he'd seen in the Nine Realms. Detailed pictures started one end of a given canvas, and morphed into something entirely new on the other end. And there were drawings of scenes taken from one perspective, like a window or a rooftop. Overall, very impressive for a short-lived mortal.

"This was from his Switzerland and Belgium phase," Steve whispered into the hushed murmur of the quiet room.

"Is that so?" Loki responded, examining one image of books leaning against two buildings, which then continued into a curved street.

"He played with perspective a lot," Steve continued. "And he used quite a few mediums. That one over there called _Prickly Flower_ is a wood engraving. When I was a teenager, I saw one called _Cloister of Montreal_ from his Italian period. He got the light _just_ right."

"Here's one from when you were two, Steve." Eleanore pointed a couple of works over to _Portrait of a Man_.

After that, Loki and Eleanore followed Steve around, listening to him talk about the history of art. Eleanore gravitated toward the Monet room where the bright colors offset the consistently white walls and simple black benches. Other people started following them, too, as they heard Steve sounding like one of the tour guides. Steve, to his credit, raised his voice just enough to be clearly heard by everyone, and he even started answering questions. Soon they had a collection of at least fifteen people in any one place.

Loki wondered if the humans around him knew that it was Captain America from seventy years ago talking about the contrast of color in _The Red Boats_ , the reason everyone who had their portrait painted usually frowned, like in _La belle Ferroni_ _ère_. Probably not, he decided. Such an iconic hero usually appeared in costume, and Steve looked like a normal person today in his buttoned-up blue shirt with its sleeves rolled halfway up his arms and brown slacks. An _ideal_ normal person, judging from the way men and women alike ogled him as he talked.

Eleanore often leaned up to whisper smaller facts to Loki as they went along. "The Madonna is a central figure because she's Mary, Mother of Jesus, so she's big in Christianity." "Baroque pieces have a lot of mythical influence, but Greek instead of Norse." "Modern art like the Lab pieces are more about eliciting thought than telling a story."

"What am I supposed to think about that pile of string?" Loki finally responded.

"Whatever you want." Eleanore grinned and snapped yet another photo of Steve, who had come to the end of his knowledge and was now simply observing across the room. His followers had deserted him when he'd told them he wasn't a tour guide, but an art school dropout. Eleanore had been taking pictures all day, both of Loki and Steve and the things they were seeing. Loki noticed, but did not comment on it. He figured pictures on a cell phone were the least of his concerns, since Lydia could find such clear images of him from SHIELD security cameras.

"It's almost noon," Eleanore continued, this time making her voice loud enough for Steve to notice. "Steve, I'm going to go look at the Monet exhibit one more time. Meet you out front?"

"Alright," Steve responded with a wave.

Loki debated internally, then caught up to Eleanore in a few strides. "Care for an escort?"

"Sure. Is there anything you want to see again?"

"Nothing in particular." Loki really just wanted to go back to what he considered actual art, not the pieces of scrap from the modern exhibit.

"Do you want to go to the gift shop with me too? I'm going to pick up some stuff for the Iowa family."

Loki nodded his assent and followed her down the stairs to the bottom floor of the building. "No more Monet for you, then?"

"I don't want to make us late for lunch," Eleanore explained. "Aunt June will want something from here. If we go somewhere like Air and Space after lunch, I'll get Alan and Zeph something."

"And your uncle?" Loki asked conversationally as Eleanore stopped at a water fountain for a drink.

"He doesn't care much about souvenirs, but I'll find him something for his office."

They reached the little shop near the entrance and went inside. The lightning was warmer here. Trinkets adorned every available space. Not many people were meandering through; most were bypassing the store and leaving through the main entrance.

"Do you think Aunt June would like a print?" Eleanore asked in a low voice, thumbing through a hanging assortment of art.

Loki watched each one go past. They were varied just like the exhibits. He found one that particularly caught his eye, and reached over Eleanore's head to stop the progression. "This is a different style."

"Van Gogh," Eleanore said. "They don't have him here right now, but I bet Steve would love to see his stuff. This one's called _Wheatfield with Cypresses_. I like it, too."

Loki's eyes naturally traced the brush strokes as they whorled across the paper. "The colors are pleasing," he decided aloud.

"I like the cooler-colored paintings, too," Eleanore agreed. "Van Gogh is one of the ones I know well; he's really famous. Oh, here's my favorite one of his." She turned a couple of poster, keeping her hand on the W _heatfield_. This was called _Almond Blossoms_. Green-blue branches covered in white flowers over a blue background.

Loki didn't like it as much. "What makes this your favorite?" he asked in curious distaste.

"I like how it could be from a lot of perspectives," Eleanore replied thoughtfully. "Like if you just take it at face value, he's painting from eye-level like he did with a lot of bouquets. But if I unfocus my eyes and look again, he could have been sitting _under_ the tree and looking up into the sky, which is something I like to do. Why do you like _Wheatfields_? Other than the colors."

"I haven't given it as much thought as you have," Loki replied. "I suppose the clouds are diverting. There's an impression of movement."

Eleanore's phone rang then. She answered it. "We're in the gift shop of the Gallery. Meet you in a few minutes."

" _Okay,_ " Lydia replied cheerily. " _I just found a parking spot near there, actually. See you on the Mall._ "

Eleanore put her phone away. "So I guess we should get a print," she said both to Loki and herself. She picked up a tube labeled _Wheatfields_ and another one called _Church_. "You can look around some more if you want while I pay. There's a line."

Loki took her up on that offer, sauntering through a few aisles while watching Eleanore inch closer to the counter. She'd gotten two posters, so Loki assumed the _Church_ one was for her uncle. He hadn't been paying enough attention to notice which print belonged to the name. June would like the fields, he was sure. They looked like the rolling hills of Iowa, which were separated in places by wooded areas.

He found nothing for himself in his perusal; nothing that really caught his eye. He pondered buying his own print, but discarded the idea when an even longer line formed behind Eleanore as she was paying. It would feel… weak to attach himself to the work of a mortal who, upon consideration, was likely long dead already. Steve could enthuse all he wanted about these things; he had studied them and now he had a link to his past life. Loki did not want to create any links to this (hopefully) brief period of imprisonment.

He met Eleanore at the door, and they saw Steve waiting for them by the entrance.

"I can get that," Steve offered, taking the bag of posters from Eleanore's hand.

Loki snagged it when the Captain was distracted by Eleanore's protests. He sent it away for storage with a wink. "You may have it later."

"Thanks to both of you, I guess." Eleanore grinned and nodded out the door. "Come on, Mom's probably waiting."

They crossed the busy street and walked onto a grassy area near where the Jarvis car had left them that morning. There was a dirt by-way, which led them back toward the Washington Monument. Loki easily spotted Lydia waving them over to a couple of the benches that lined the path. She wore lighter clothes today: a cream t-shirt over light blue jeans that ended just above white sandals.

"Happy birthday!" she greeted Loki enthusiastically, along with a familiar squeeze of his forearm.

"Thank you," Loki said with a smile, hoping this was the correct way to respond to the overture. Then he remembered that Lydia was like her daughter and didn't care if he was formally polite or not. "You know, this is a farce."

"A happy farce," Lydia agreed. Then she greeted her daughter with a kiss on the forehead. "Hey honey. You look beautiful today." A smile for the Captain. "And so do you, Steve. Actually, you all look very nice."

Loki looked around at the other two mortals. Yes, Eleanore looked lovely in her dress, which was a break from her normal trousers and loose shirt. And Steve had abandoned his usual t-shirt and jacket ensemble as well. Loki wondered why they'd made an effort. Perhaps being out in the public eye now made Eleanore wish to… but no. She knew how to dress as a matter of course, but she cared as much about appearance as Sif did. And Steve was the same way, wearing what he could reasonably move around in and donning that ridiculously colorful costume or the covertly dull suit when he fought. In fact, Loki often drew stares when he accompanied Eleanore into a store or restaurant because, she said, he dressed so formally.

 _They match me_ , he realized with a start, even as Eleanore began discussing her shoes (a gift from Pepper Potts) with her mother. _That cannot be right_ , he thought in the next moment. _They don_ _'t revolve around you, as Lydia says._ But he could find no other explanation. He longed to ask Eleanore or Steve about it, just to hear them counter his assumption with something practical. But now was not the time.

"Steve and I can go get the food," Eleanore was offering as Lydia seated herself on the bench once again.

"That sounds good," the older woman replied, slipping green bills into Eleanore's hand. "I'll take the biggest water they have, and a burger."

"I'll get something you'll like," Eleanore promised Loki as she and Steve set off for the food stand.

Loki knew accompanying them would be considered rude, and he needed to talk to Lydia anyway. He sat on the bench beside, deciding to attempt whatever the two mortals brought back. "You were too generous with your gift," he said right away. "Especially with the descriptive words you employed."

Lydia smiled at him. "Those weren't my words, I just went through news articles about you and made a word cloud out of the most commonly used ones."

Loki blinked. "Then your media is too generous."

"No, that's not it," Lydia laughed.

Loki tried not to let her merriment affect his disdain. It was a battle, because he was having such a pleasant day. He settled on a wry grin. "Whatever you say, my lady."

"I say you are your actions here," Lydia informed him more seriously. "And your actions so far have been pretty heroic."

Now Loki scowled. "You are forgetting—"

"— _Your_ actions," Lydia interrupted him. "As in the ones you've chosen to do without anyone controlling your mind." She sighed suddenly and sat back on the bench, leaning her arm on the bench and crossing her legs. "But can we not fight today? You were in such a good mood. Did you like the Gallery?"

Loki conceded to the reasonable request. "I find Midgardian art has greatly advanced since my last visits," he hedged.

"What exhibit did you like best?"

"The exhibition Steve made of himself, acting as a tour guide," Loki answered immediately. "That was most entertaining."

Lydia laughed again. "He's such a nice boy. Did you learn a lot?"

"A great deal about Monet and Da Vinci and Escher," Loki admitted. "Eleanore preferred the paintings, I know."

"Speaking of her, I need to ask you a favor," Lydia cut in abruptly. She glanced behind them to the food stand.

Loki looked back as well and found Eleanore and Steve talking while they waited in line. If he focused, he could hear them. " _Mom always gives my friends money for food; you don_ _'t have to feel bad._ " " _But I should pay, you guys take the check all the time._ "

"What favor?" he asked, turning back to the more immediate mortal to his right.

"Can you take some pictures of Elle while you're out today? I know she's getting some with all three of you, but I'd like a few that she doesn't take. I don't get a lot of candid photos of her anymore." Lydia spoke quickly, as though she was afraid Loki would interrupt her with a denial. "I'll ask Steve too, so don't feel a lot of pressure. Just, when she's not looking. Please?"

Loki wasn't about to deny such a request, though he questioned the effectiveness of an effort. "I will attempt it," he promised. "Eleanore will notice that, though. Steve will serve you better."

"You can tell her I asked you to do it, if she notices," Lydia said with a smile. "I'd get more surveillance footage and use that, but the security cameras aren't as good here. And she's pretty happy today, so she'll probably let the photos happen."

"For you, I am certain she will." Loki noted Steve and Eleanore approaching, laden with a plethora of food and beverages.

Lunch consisted of burgers and fries and the buzzing of tourists around them. Loki wasn't so relaxed as to be foolish out among such a crowd. He kept his senses sharp— so much easier to do when fully awake. He noted nothing amiss, but he saw Steve surveying the scene as well. No one came close enough to be a threat; no one even glanced at them twice other than when Steve stood and took their garbage to the trash. Then a number of gazes were trained on his retreating form.

The strange day continued with Lydia's departure and the trio's return to the indoors. First to the Air and Space Museum, where Loki laughed at the primitive space exploration vehicles and snapped pictures of Eleanore explaining them to Steve in animated detail.

Eleanore got a coffee with two extra shots of espresso as they made their way into the Museum of Natural History for its final hour of touring. That sped her words up through the afternoon when they returned to the apartment to change into even more formal clothing, and into the evening, when they visited a table-spattered room in front of a stage shut with red curtains. Loki got a picture of Eleanore explaining some of the menu items to Steve. They all stuck with what they knew: Eleanore and Loki chose salads, which were delivered in giant bowls with chicken and a myriad of other vegetables unique to Earth.

"So Shakespeare has been dead for almost four hundred years," Eleanore prefaced quickly as the house lights fell. "I have some of his sonnets back at ho— at the apartment. If you like this." She ordered a coffee that arrived just before the curtains drew back.

The play was… something. Loki loved it. Asgard had such entertainment only at festivals, and it was secondary in relation to the displays to physical strength and skill. Alfheim was the only realm that could compare with this poetry, he decided. And the acting was superb. Colorful costumes, flawless decorations.

"Enchanting," Loki said at the intermission when he found Eleanore and Steve gauging his expression from the corners of their eyes.

Their answering relief lasted through dessert: something called 'cheesecake', which was more appetizing than it sounded. A quick glance around the room showed Loki no lurking magic at all, nothing but familiar power. Then the play resumed, and, through the convoluted series of events, it ended on a happy note. Loki mimicked the humans' clapping to show his approval as the actors and actresses lined up for a final bow.

"I've never seen a professional play before," Steve commented on their way out of the theater.

"You were kind of in one," Eleanore said.

"Yeah, let's compare that to Shakespeare," Steve chuckled.

"Loki's the least biased party. He can compare it."

"What am I wasting my judgment upon?" Loki inquired. Steve in a play? It might be fun to see that, whether it was before or after his muscular transformation.

Eleanore folded her dark red skirt into the back seat of the car. "Steve, you wanna tell him?"

"I was in a show," Steve admitted with that age-old weariness that made him sound his actual age. "Selling bonds in the War. That was before I got into active duty."

Loki heard Eleanore leaning forward, and he took the phone she tapped on his shoulder. Steve was on display in black and white. "That's not armor," Loki observed first. "And you seem to do none of the actual work here. Those women are much more active than you are."

"I know, they were the real heroes," Steve agreed. "At least that video doesn't have sound. I can't get the song out of my head some days."

Eleanore started humming a strident tune.

"Thanks, Elle. Just what I asked for."

"You're… you're reading your lines from the back of your shield," Loki accused. "Unprofessional, Captain."

"Yeah, well, that was the most job security I've ever had." Steve shrugged. "Can't replace the guy who can lift a bike with two dames— I mean women— on it."

Loki shook his head in fake shock. "What a disrespectful line. From a _feminist_ , no less."

"Yeah, Steve, what the Puck?" Eleanore quipped.

Loki laughed at that wit, and the jokes kept up until they reached the parking lot again and trekked up the apartment stairwell.

"Night," Steve bade them, unlocking his door and stepping inside.

Loki followed Eleanore into her apartment, as always. Charlie trilled loudly at their entrance, and Jet raised his head from the couch to blink as Eleanore turned on the kitchen lights and dropped into her gray chair with a sigh.

"I could fall asleep right now," she commented offhand, leaning her head back against the cushion. She did look exhausted, but also very satisfied; a smile had been present in her expression in some form throughout the day, whether hidden behind delightedly pensive eyes in the museums, or outright grinning when Loki or Steve would speak to her. Now, the happiness lingered as a ghost, barely curling the corners of her mouth. Her hair was curling out of its pins in ruddy-brown wildness, and her whatever she'd used to color her lips to match her formal dress had worn thin.

Looking at her, Loki recognized his own exhaustion from the past weeks. He also realized the cause of his own energy, which had lasted from this morning to now with very little change. He still felt rested enough for another full day of activity, but Eleanore looked like she would drop as soon as she stood again.

"How late were you awake last night to guard my dreams, Eleanore?"

She met his eyes and gave a crooked grin full of happy resignation. "It wasn't supposed to be this obvious."

That was as close as she would get to evasion, Loki knew. "Attribute it to your honest nature," he suggested, thinking back to figure it out for himself. No nightmares had plagued him _at all_. Not once had he awakened to a disturbance, and she'd already been awake to greet him this morning…

"Go to sleep at once," he ordered sternly.

Eleanore chuckled and rose. "I have to wash this makeup off," she told him, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

 _Unbelievable_ , Loki thought in the silence. It was directed both at himself and at Eleanore. How could she stay up all night for such a simple purpose? How had he not connected her weariness with his peace? And humans were so _weak_. Losing a full night of sleep would be extremely detrimental to their health when they did nothing the next day, and Eleanore had dashed around unceasingly, keeping pace with Loki and Steve in the bright sunshine, the dimmed museums.

She had planned this for some time, he realized. A long, uncharacteristic nap the previous afternoon had been preparation. All the coffee today kept her going until now, nearly midnight.

It was too much, far too much, effort for a simple gift.

The bathroom door opened and Eleanore emerged. She still wore her dress, but her face was devoid of ornament, and her hair was combed into loose waves and curls. She grabbed her keys from the counter and reached for the hall door. "I forgot to check the mail today," she said.

Loki caught her wrist in a second. "I'm certain the metal box can wait through the night."

Eleanore paused. "I need to go get it," she insisted stubbornly.

Loki closed his eyes, willing patience into his voice. "Allow me to retrieve it for you, then," he requested.

Eleanore chewed on her lip, not letting go of the door handle. "There's some stuff on the roof, I think. You go get that, and I'll get the mail and meet you back here."

Loki frowned at her, but conceded. "Very well." He let go of her wrist and followed her back out into the hall and to the stairs, where they parted ways. Loki leapt up the two flights to the roof's door and ventured onto the flat gravel surface. He had to skirt the door's shelter to find the set of black cases much like the one Darren had used to transport the metals. There were three in all, stacked on top of each other like a little tower that reached Loki's waist. The smallest one was on top, and it was easily as wide as the round laundry basket Eleanore sometimes borrowed from Steve. Under that was one that rivaled the suitcase Pepper had sent his Midgardian clothes in. And on the bottom lay a huge cube that reached from the ground to Loki's knee.

Well. Eleanore had given him the most difficult task, at least.

Loki debated storing these containers and bringing them down the stairs that way, but he was concerned about their contents. Would magic harm any of them, or disrupt spells Darren may have placed? He squinted at each one and found no trace of magic, but that meant practically nothing. He picked up the stack carefully and used magic to open the door on his way back down to the apartment. They were heavy, altogether weighing about as much as Steve did.

Eleanore let him in when he arrived, stepping back and letting Loki walk through to the main room, where he deposited his burden in the middle of the floor. Next to two more boxes, these made of cardboard with familiar shipping labels on their tops.

"Wow," Eleanore commented, nudging the bottom black cube with her foot. "Tony must have sent you a whole new lab."

Loki blinked. "These are for me?"

"Yeah," Eleanore affirmed, "birthday presents. Pepper and Tony and Darren sent these with drones. The other boxes are from me and the Iowa family."

Loki eyed each container, not sure how to react. Mostly, he was annoyed that Eleanore was still awake at this point. He met her eyes. "You told everyone possible about this."

"And we all kept it a secret for like two weeks." She bounced on her toes again. "I'm pretty proud of us. But we mostly texted about the plans, so you wouldn't have noticed it as easily." Another bounce. "Aren't you going to open them?"

"I am tempted not to," Loki said. "This is… Eleanore, this is not even my nameday. And I haven't celebrated one in your lifetime."

"About time you did, then," she pointed out. "Do you want me to go to bed, so you can open them by yourself?"

Loki felt a bit of his frost melting under that consideration. "No," he decided, "not so long as you sleep the night through and don't rush off to SHIELD in the morning. It will be more difficult to protect you if you are falling asleep during battle."

Eleanore nodded seriously. "Deal. And I won't take pictures while you open presents, even though we normally do that. Although the Iowa people will ask how you liked yours."

"I'll start with that," Loki said. He pulled one of the cardboard boxes over and knelt among the clutter. Slit the tape with his fingernail and smelled the musty scent of the brown packing paper set around several colorful packages. White paper covered with metallic ribbons and the words 'Happy Birthday!' in many different fonts. On top of these lay a green envelope with ' _Loki_ ' scrawled in connected letters.

"That's a card." Eleanore said, kneeling awkwardly in her dress. "You're supposed to open that first."

Loki did. He found a lumpy bit of folded paper with more connected lettering on the front. ' _Happy birthday, Loki!_ ' This card was made of green paper, and the lettering was metallic gold that flashed in the light of the lamp. When Loki opened the card, he found four different styles of handwriting in the same black ink.

' _Come back and visit soon. How old are you again? Happy birthday either way. -Alan and Zeph,_ ' ' _Loki, thank you so much for all your help! Feel free to visit any time. Hope you have a great birthday! -June Hansen_ ,' ' _Don_ _'t work too hard catching those bad guys. Have a great day. -Coleman Hansen._ '

"Aunt June likes making her own cards," Eleanore explained, tracing the gold script with her finger.

Loki picked up the largest rectangle in the box. It was light for its size, and it rattled when he shook it. Carefully, he detached the sticky film from the end and slid the gift out without tearing the paper. A green note was stuck over the main title of the colorful imagery.

' _We got one of these for here, too. Practice up and play us next time you visit. -Alan and Zeph_ '

Loki removed the note and read 'Settlers of Katan' from the board game. "Another strategy?" he asked Eleanore.

"Oh, it's super fun," Eleanore said enthusiastically. "You have to build your empire, and you trade with other kingdoms, so players, and you can trick them and get all of one thing. You're gonna love it."

"Mm," Loki hummed noncommittally. He opened the second package, emptying the larger box. This one was slightly heavier than the Katan game, though it was shorter and about the same thickness. When Loki opened it, he found a green and gold book with plastic pages. He opened it and found a plethora of photos from the farm, all featuring himself in some way. Shooting at the clay pigeons and talking to Eleanore about her grandfather's gun. Talking to Steve near the barn as they finished the fence. Sitting near the fire while Eleanore and Zephaniah played their stringed instruments. Standing in the barn near Coleman, talking about the new calf.

"She's sneaky with the camera," Eleanore commented, looking at the book upside down. "At least we don't have to get you a photo album, I guess." She pointed to one where Loki was talking to Zephaniah on the shooting deck. "You look kind of happy there."

Loki shrugged. "I was not averse to learning your firearms." _Though I did consider using them against you._ He turned another page and found it blank. The rest of the book stood ready for more images.

"I'll get the stuff from today printed for you," Eleanore promised. "Which do you want to open next?"

Loki eyed the box she'd said was from her. It was much smaller than the Iowans' box, and the tape was already destroyed, the lid partially open to display more shiny wrapping. "What did you do?" he asked cautiously.

"Not too much. I don't know if you'll like it, though." Eleanore opened the brown box and gave him a silver-wrapped cube that fit in her palm. She fidgeted uncomfortably as Loki carefully opened it.

He found a little black box that closed magnetically over a couple of golden pins with green stones set into a knotted, animalistic design, and another knotted clip-like ornament with the same designs and the same green stone in the knot on one end.

"It's a tie clip and cufflinks," Eleanore explained in a rush. "Men wear them in suits here. And they were your colors, so… And they're gold, so I thought you could maybe use them with some kind of spell if you remove the emeralds. I looked up Norse knots, and this design seemed a little like what the Bifrost leaves behind. But if you don't like them, we can always—"

"— I do like them," Loki interrupted her gently.. "They are lovely. I won't insult you by saying they are too kind." For they _were_ too kind. How much must they have cost? And from a woman working on paying off her debts, as well as feeding two grown men regularly? But to refuse them would be unpardonable, even for him. "Thank you, Eleanore."

Eleanore gave him her happiest smile yet, one that beamed from her eyes and made her whole being splendid. It warmed Loki from deep within his chest and drew an answering smile from his lips before he could think about it. He was drawn in, and residual happiness washed over him. He'd never been attracted to Eleanore, and he still wasn't, but in that moment he thought Darren Stark was the luckiest man on Earth.

Soon enough, Eleanore turned her attention to the black boxes, releasing Loki from the spell. "Want to see what's in these, or do you want to wait until tomorrow for Steve?"

Loki planned on leaving for SHIELD very early the next morning, long before she would be awake, and he knew he wouldn't return until late that evening. "Now is just as well. Still on the same day, technically."

"Okay." Eleanore handed him the smallest container. "I have no idea what they sent, so this is fun."

It was diverting. Loki felt much younger than his years, as though he truly were celebrating a nameday from his youth, back when they had been private, family affairs. He also felt mild pangs of guilt with every show of generosity from the mortals, most of whom knew him very little.

The Stark boxes were metal, and a clear button on each side activated them. The small one folded back in Loki's hands to half its size, revealing colorful material emblazoned with many designs. A folded note on the top read, ' _Here_ _'s some paraphernalia for your approval, Reindeer Games. Stark Industries now owns the rights to yours and Eleanore's images and symbols, so you get to decide how they're used. Pepper and Eleanore can explain it better. Let me know what you think. -Tony_ '

Loki lifted five t-shirts out. One was green with a golden picture of his horned helm on the chest. Another was black with his armored silhouette. Two were purple with a draconian orb in orange and silver, and one was white with all the Avengers displayed in black shadow in a row.

"Huh," Eleanore said, pulling a metal contraption from the bottom of the box. "Avengers swag. I guess it was only a matter of time."

"What does Tony plan to do with these?" Loki inquired, tossing all the shirts in her direction. As if he'd ever wear something with himself on the chest.

"He might let the company sell them," Eleanore said, examining the material herself. "People know about us, now, I guess. Lots of cameras caught us, and SHIELD is making it look like you were helping us in New York. The government owns Steve's shield symbol still, so they sell stuff like this all the time."

"Mortal peasants would wear my helmet?" Loki could not believe it. "I refuse to be a part of this foolishness."

"It's fine," Eleanore assured him. "I'll tell Tony no, okay? I was going to hold off on my stuff anyway, until the mutant issue dies down a little. You can always change your mind if you want." She held up the ones with her symbol. "Sure you don't want these for gym shirts? They're your size."

Loki took one back. "Give the other to Steve," he suggested. "And any of mine you wish as well."

"I'm keeping the helmet one," Eleanore laughed. "Gosh, I forgot we were real celebrities. You must be used to it, from before."

She was not trying to cause him pain, but Loki still felt nostalgia stab him in the heart. "My image was never sold. Princes are treated with more respect in the rest of the Nine."

"But everyone knew who you were."

"Most people. In small towns or remote places, I was not as recognizable. And of course, I could go unseen if I wished." And Loki had wished that very often when he traveled on his own.

"Well, let's see what's in the middle box." Eleanore took the smaller one from Loki's lap and set it up in her chair.

Loki opened the medium container and watched it fold back to show more clothes. These, however, were ones he would wear.

"Oh, _nice_ ," Eleanore commented, running a hand over the deep black suit jacket that lay on top, along with several more 'dress' shirts. "Pepper's amazing. She always knows just what to get. This is like midnight black."

Loki sorted through each garment. There were many, mostly formal. The dress shirts were in varying shades of green, blue, white, gray, and black. There were also ties, plain and designed, and a couple new pairs of shoes that looked as sophisticated and comfortable as those Loki already owned. Some more casual shirts, still incredibly soft and tailored as well as the formal wear. A black pair of utilitarian leather boots. Three new suits: midnight black, silver-gray, and what Eleanore called 'charcoal'. There were also coats, one lengthy and black made of thick wool, another black leather, and yet another made of the same material as Eleanore's raincoat with a thicker lining. Finally, folded into a bag at the bottom lay something Eleanore called a 'tuxedo', complete with its own crisp white shirt, 'satin' lapels, a black vest, a strange-looking black ribbon, and shiny black leather shoes.

"It's for fancy parties, like formals and stuff," Eleanore informed him, running her hand over the material. "Seems like you'd get hot in this. Darren always complains about wearing tuxes."

"And on such an occasion, I would undoubtedly wear these cufflinks." Loki gave her a grin, which she returned.

Then Eleanore snagged the leather jacket and held it to her nose, inhaling with her eyes closed. " _Mmmm_ … Leather smells so good."

Loki grinned at her. "You'd like the men of Asgard, then. They wear little else."

"If they're all as— nevermind." Eleanore concluded her thought quickly.

"As what?" Loki pressed.

"Nothing. It's not nice." She held up the midnight black suit jacket. "Aren't you going to try this on?"

"I will if you finish what you were saying," Loki insisted.

Eleanore sighed at him and rolled her eyes. "I was going to say, 'If they're all as clueless as Thor, then no thank you'."

Loki threw back his head and _laughed_. "Oh, sometimes, you are a true delight."

"Don't get carried away with the compliments," Eleanore giggled along. "Now try something on, like you promised."

Loki chose the midnight jacket and shrugged it on over his green shirt, standing as he did so and buttoning the top button. "Well?" he asked Eleanore, who was still seated on the floor.

"Really handsome," she complimented him easily, standing as well. "I like that color a lot. It's like it absorbs light."

"Black usually does," Loki pointed out. He summoned the cufflink box and one of the new ties in plain dark green. He arranged the tie with magic and held out the box in his hand. "Another teaching moment?"

"Your shirt has buttons on the sleeves," Eleanore said. "One of the new ones wouldn't, and you'd use the cufflinks for that." She took the tie clip out and fastened it to the tie using the front of his shirt to hold it all together. Stepped back and appraised him. "I think it looks nice."

Loki summoned the mirror to float in front of the island countertop. He did look… nice. He looked kind, unthreatening, next to this mortal who bent to pic up Charlie to hold him in front of the reflection.

"Cats don't recognize themselves," she explained while the kitten sniffed the glass. "One time, we had the floor-length mirror at the farm, and we had a kitten inside, and it tried to fight itself."

"Mm. I think that signals the end of your coherence," Loki said, taking the mirror back.

"I thought that happened when I told Steve, 'what the Puck'."

Loki grinned. "Either way. Thank you, and goodnight, as the actors say."

"You're welcome, and thanks for hanging out with us today. Oh! I have an idea to run by you, just real quick."

"My answer is 'no' if it involves the sewers."

"Been there, done that. Although maybe abandoned subway tunnels? We'll have to think about that. But no, my idea was that, if it helps, you could take naps while I'm awake when we're here, and that way you're better-rested, like today. If you want."

She offered this boon so cautiously. Just like everything today, from the plans this morning to the play. _Have I successfully frightened you, Eleanore Engman?_

That wasn't what he wanted. Not right now. Not all day. Loki recalled the last week, when he'd snapped at her over the slightest questions. He remembered when Odin and Thor and others would do the same to him. _"Know your place, Brother._ "

 _I don_ _'t want to sound like them._ "Thank you, Eleanore. I would appreciate that."

 **A/N:** _ **Two chapters in a weekend! I tried to keep this more concise (because I**_ _ **'ve had to learn to pare things down to fit everything in a book chapter). Please let me know if/how you like it!**_

 _ **Thanks again for reading!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	33. Ch 33: S Team

"Darren Stark should watch his back," Loki commented.

Elle gave him a strange look in the flashing as they passed a street lamp. "What, are you mad at him for something?"

"No, you have an admirer. That woman? You can't be that oblivious."

Elle raised her eyes to look at Steve in the rear-view mirror. "She was just nice."

Steve shrugged at her.

"Please," Loki chuckled, "she was ogling you, and looked at the Captain's rear not at _all_."

"Well, I didn't see that part. Oh well, I guess? I don't think I said anything that would have hurt her feelings."

"You didn't," Steve confirmed. The lawyer, an executor for some property owner, _had_ been very interested in Elle, enough for even Steve to notice. But she hadn't been pushy, and the entire interaction had lasted twenty minutes. Now, their trio team was headed to the next potential magic location, going off a list of break-ins that had occurred on the night of the attack.

Almost a week after the explosion, the media had moved on to other violence. And, thankfully, it had moved on from Elle for the most part. Steve thought her short explanatory press conference was a large part of that. It had been held at Stark Tower, relatively impromptu, with cameras flashing off Elle's small, black Avengers suit. She'd addressed the crowd with Jet coiled as a dragon at her back, given a small speech about why she had kept her identity a secret and what she expected going forward, and then she'd walked off the stage.

Steve hadn't even known about it until just before she got home late that night. Tony had first texted, " _News Channel 8_ " and then a full-length video link that negated the need for a television. Steve watched the speech from his apartment with rising ire as the reporters tried to shout questions at the end.

" _Ms. Engman! How does this affect your relationship with Darren Stark?_ "

" _What made you decide the world was ready for a mutant Avenger?_ "

" _How does your family feel about your status?_ "

" _Do mutants plan to take the spotlight now?_ "

" _When did you discover your powers?_ "

" _Was it tough to decide how to use your abilities?_ _"_

" _Do the other Avengers accept your genetics?"_

"You alright?" he'd asked when Elle finally got back.

She'd given him a smile and a shrug. "Yeah. I minored in Public Speaking for a reason."

That public speaking had gotten them into a lot of places today. This morning, Loki had taken the lead with charm and wit, making the owners of various buildings laugh and let them in on little-known secrets. Steve now knew that health inspectors might overlook roaches, but that they frowned on even one out of many empty soap dispensers in a bathroom. Also, that break-ins could be a blessing in terms of insurance money.

"There's nothing here."

Loki's dejection pulled Steve from his recollection. He looked around at the small square of a parking lot set in front of a closed architecture firm.

"You always say we have to check further," Elle protested.

"This is a thinly-walled building with many windows and no lower level. We'd have caught your magician by now if they were stupid enough to use a place like this."

Elle huffed through her nose, turning around to follow the map to the next location. " _Your_ magician, since you said they're not after me."

"Your planet, your country, your city. As you mortals say, 'I just work here.' You should have your dragon come along if you want a mindless follower."

"Jet isn't mindless. And he gets really tired with a lot of activity. Dragon's don't move a lot on Vanaheim."

"Thank you for explaining. I didn't spend the last eon surrounded by dragon lore."

The banter continued on their short drive and through the typical commlink setup. Steve joined in from time to time, but mostly he just listened in appreciation for how relaxed Loki had become over the last few days. Even when they separated to scan the building's floors, their smaller team stayed connected, present.

" _Nothing_ ," Elle reported.

" _Such specific terminology,_ " Loki taunted. " _Next, you_ _'re going to ask me to pick up fruits that are 'like nectarines, but not the same color.'"_

" _I still can_ _'t believe there are no plums anywhere but Earth, and I_ told _you I would get the groceries myself. But fine. No mushy bodies or crazy-ass wizards. Better?_ "

"Stay focused," Steve sighed. Again. It was the third time he'd mentioned it today. Connected didn't necessarily mean 'serious'. Elle was letting her boredom show after their many, _many_ searches all day. Loki picked up on that and grew more snide.

" _I am focused,_ " Loki retorted. " _You mortals are correct, just as I told you outside. This isn_ _'t the treasure trove you seek._ "

Elle's laughter was static in the comm. " _Maybe the real treasure is the friendship we find along the way._ "

"I'll just leave if she keeps spouting nonsense like that," Loki threatened in Steve's ear.

Steve resisted the urge to whirl and face the magic-prone man. It was the second time Loki had shown up on his heels during their searches. "We can all leave. Preferably, next time, from our assigned positions. You're the one who warned us against magic here, remember?"

Loki's smile was sardonic. "Do as I say, not as I do."

Back in the car, Elle sat cross-legged and typed away on her laptop. "Nothing new from Stan," she reported, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Jarvis? Next site?"

" _That was the last site within the search radius. Would you like me to expand the parameters?_ _"_

Steve looked at Loki, who narrowed his eyes at the speakers in the doors. "There's no way this pathetic mortal could have been any further away. There have to be more possibilities."

"Maybe one possibility is that this guy already did a cleanup," Elle suggested. She'd brought it up before, several times over the past couple of days. Almost as often as Loki mentioned 'pathetic mortals'.

"They couldn't have 'cleaned up' their power from the inside of a metal or mortar building," Loki scoffed. His jaw worked, and Steve saw the moment he realized his harsh tone. Specifically, when Elle's eyes widened and her lips thinned into a cautious frown. When he spoke again, his voice was more calmly informational. "Every one of these sites has been sealed until we cut the chains or broke the doors in. Even with the broken windows, there wasn't nearly enough natural energy to dissipate the sheer amount of magic they would have needed for everything they accomplished."

Steve thought about that. "We used to hole up in old factories or closed stores when we needed shelter for a night. We've only been searching abandoned facilities. What about places that just aren't used that often? Somewhere that would have been empty at that time of night."

"What kind of… Jarvis? Give us a map of reported break-ins within our search radius."

A holographic D.C. lit the middle of the jet, pockmarked with red dots. Almost a thousand red dots.

"Could you give us a list by date?" Elle asked.

Loki scrolled through the list when it appeared. "Rid this of every report where something valuable was taken."

The list narrowed to just forty entries. " _Is there a building or room size requirement?_ _"_ Jarvis asked.

"That's… difficult to gauge," Loki hedged. "How many of these places reported a multitude of broken windows? Magic may cause that in a small space."

The list lost five entries. " _Not every instance was cataloged in acute detail._ "

"Of course not," Loki grumbled.

Steve put his hand on his hip. "Long night ahead."

"Most of these are in the city," Elle pointed out. "Can we stop for coffee?"

"Coffee and supper," Steve agreed.

That was what they did. A quick meal and a macchiato later, and their team was in better spirits. They faced the dark buildings, the lit offices, the proprietors with something like a united front. Loki and Elle smoothly talked their way into every bit of information anyone had to offer, including a couple of police officers who mentioned the DC attack and how they'd been part of the cleanup.

One of the officers gave Elle a suspicious glare, which she didn't seem to notice. He lightened up when she made a joke about going to high school with the sheriff's son from her county, and how she'd once had a call from said sheriff about her cousin's football practice.

"They just need to remember I'm a person," she'd stated in the car.

Steve figured that comment had been meant for both him and Loki, but neither of them had replied to it.

The tenth place they found on Jarvis' list was dark and deserted, burned out. It smelled like sweat over the soot, but Loki attributed that to the toolboxes lying around and the early evening hour. The windows were mostly repaired. Jarvis read off the insurance report, which listed the burning as the damage.

"Nothing except some arson," Loki sighed.

Elle shrugged. "Don't worry, we'll find some horrible, oozy stuff at one of these places."

They didn't find anything at the next ten places, though. Nothing but irritated people who sighed the facts of their burglaries and break-ins when they bothered to show up at all.

"I need more coffee after this one," Elle informed them.

"Your blood is probably turning brown from all that poison," Loki retorted.

"No, that's from all the bullshit I have to absorb from you guys."

"Okay," Steve hedged, "let's try to be professional. Which agency are we from this time?"

Elle shrugged. "Government? That's what I've been saying."

"I've been making up acronyms," Loki concurred.

"Perfect." They were about as professional as Steve had come to expect. He was just thankful Loki was blending in so well, and that so few people recognized them somehow.

He decided not to press their luck after one in the morning, though, since they'd started working at eight AM. The buildings would be there later, and they all needed a break. For Elle, hopefully, that would mean sleep. She was visibly refusing to droop with exhaustion, blinking hard, swigging the last of her coffee.

Loki wasn't acting tired, just frustrated. He drummed his fingers on the door handle, frowned deeply in thought into the night. His answers grew shorter and more irritable until they were just 'Yes' or 'No.' That was, until Elle drew him into this game on their phones: _Words With Friends_. It was something she could actually beat both of them at, and Loki liked the taunting challenges that came along with high-scoring words.

And Steve could admit to needing some sleep. He didn't know that finding this building would actually help them find the magician at all, especially since they were now searching businesses owned by seemingly mundane humans. It was just good to be working, watching their team develop. In a couple more days, if they hadn't found any more clues, Steve would insist on some extended field work. For now, their mission could simply consist of the drive home.

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Steve got a good four hours, went for a run, and then waited until seven in the morning to venture over to the other apartment. He found Loki sitting in the leather chair with Charlie and a book and a cup of tea.

"Elle not set an alarm?" Steve asked.

Loki sipped the steaming brew. "That's the story I'm going with."

"We'll keep better hours today," Steve promised, his heart warming at the other man's taciturn sabotage that stemmed from reluctant concern. "Thanks for all your help. What are you reading?"

Loki raised the book to show the spine: _The Hitchhiker_ _'s Guide to the Galaxy_.

"Flawed?" Steve guessed.

"Inventive."

Steve left him to his reading. He didn't like to hover when the other man was clearly occupied. The books were accumulating around the apartment on tables, on the white shelf Elle had brought in from some thrift store last week. Some even find their way into his apartment, placed in strategic positions so he could pick them up when he sat at his island counter, when he sprawled on the couch.

Steve did that now, lifting the second _Harry Potter_ book from its place, bookmarked, on the end table. Elle and Loki had been classifying people they met and knew into the four houses, and Steve had been reading, trying to catch up. Elle had a movie night planned for when he finished the series.

He'd finished the book by nine, which was when Elle whirled into his apartment. "Why didn't you get me up?!"

"No rush for the buildings," Steve said.

She huffed through her nose. "Well. You're ready, as always. Let's go, I guess. I wish you would have gotten me up sooner, we have to be home by three today."

"Yes, ma'am."

They searched until two in the afternoon, then broke for lunch. Steve decided not to ask why Loki and Elle needed to be back at the apartment in the middle of the afternoon. He hadn't needed to _know_ the specifics of why the demigod's mood was gradually getting better, why the dark circles under his eyes were disappearing; it was simple enough to guess. Easier, too, to shrug with honesty when people asked where Elle and Loki were and what they were doing. Better than telling Hill or Fury or Tony that 'Loki needed a nap.'

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Steve spent the few hours they needed alone visiting the nursing home. Peggy was awake enough for an hour or so, and then he slipped away when she started dozing. It was the simplest sort of exit he could make. Then he headed for an original of a familiar face.

"Tea or coffee?" Lydia greeted him.

Steve sank into the chair— Elle's normal seat, not Loki's. "How do you already have both ready?"

"I know when you get here, and you always say coffee," Lydia replied, sounding much like her daughter. She handed him a red mug. "It's strong today."

"Thank you. How have you been?"

"Pretty well. Do you three have plans tomorrow night?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then I'm going to come cook dinner for you. Lasagna? I haven't visited Elle in a long time." Lydia took her own seat, stirring stringless tea bag with a thin spoon.

Steve let his eyes rove over the picture display on the little table under the wall-mounted television. Lydia with a very young Eleanore, and Elle growing up, and a red graduation cap and gown one sunny day framed next to a tiny, dark-eyed child smiling over a giant bowl of cut strawberries. "That will be nice."

"How's she doing?" Another common question.

Steve didn't feel like a spy with this, though. "I think she's doing well. Anything I should watch for?"

Lydia's face soured away from her normal answer of, 'not really.' "Do you know what her dad looks like?"

"No," Steve answered. The man wasn't in any pictures. Elle _rarely_ spoke of him, except as a sidelong mention within an explanation about why she could drive a stick shift or cook for herself. "Why?"

"I'm worried he's going to show up sometime soon. At the apartment, which would be…" Lydia shook her head. "Tony and Darren are watching him, though. I just want another line of defense. You won't mention it?"

"I… don't know what I would mention. Are he and Elle in some kind of fight?"

"It's very one-sided, from what I can gather. I don't even have all the facts. I'm— I haven't always been the best mom, Steve. Not to drag you into our personal drama or my failings, but… Well, here." She held out her phone, which had a picture of a man standing next to Elle with his arm around her. It was a recent enough picture. Steve carefully memorized the thinning red-blond hair, the blue eyes, the tobacco wad in the man's lip, and his lanky, thin build.

Elle was smiling in the photo, but her shoulders were drawn up in the same strain she'd displayed the night she'd gone to dinner with this man. Ken Engman, said the information under the photo. They both looked tense in some odd way, like they were holding back words.

And Lydia was doing the same thing, now.

"If you want to tell me, I'll listen," Steve promised. He couldn't honestly imagine this woman as a poor mother. Not the same as Sarah Rogers, but just as loving.

Lydia sighed. "I don't even know all of it. Maybe Elle will tell you someday. She hasn't told me, because she doesn't want me to feel bad about it. I know Ken never physically hurt her— I checked for that, you know, off and on, as you do. But she would be so _angry_ when she came home from visiting him. It was every month when she was younger. I thought maybe she didn't want to come back home, because her dad did take her to do a lot of fun stuff. But she stopped making the regular visits as soon as she had the choice, so when she was thirteen. The only thing I know is that she never, _never_ told him she was a mutant. She begged me not to as soon as she found out."

Steve felt himself freezing up. Shock bound any questions in his ribcage, where they fermented and built pressure.

Lydia answered some of them. "So, yeah, he didn't know about her genes. And not about the Avenger thing. I did ask when she was going to tell him. She said, 'He can find out next time he calls me.' I guess he didn't call in the last three weeks. That's normal," Lydia continued, "the lack of contact. Even when Elle was eight, he rarely called her. So. But anyway. I don't know that you needed to know all that. I should have led with the mutant thing."

Steve swallowed. This was far more bitter than the cooling coffee in his hand. "I had no idea."

"Well, she doesn't talk about it much. Even with me, like I said. I just wanted you to have some background in case our family drama shows up on your doorstep. I really hope it doesn't. Especially if you're going to take it to heart like this. Steve? It's not too bad, okay?"

"It's… of course. I mean, of course not. I mean, I'm glad you told me."

Lydia's smile turned fond. "You don't have to worry too much. I know she talks to Darren about this, so it's not like she's totally alone."

 _Anymore_. Because, from the age of seven to seventeen, she had been. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

"Elle will tell you what she needs," Lydia promised him. "She really will. Very specifically. Maybe not the 'why,' but the 'what'. You just have to listen. Easy parenting. Have I dropped enough baggage on you for today? You can go if you want."

Steve shook his head. Took another drink. "I have another hour or so before Loki beats me senseless in the sparring ring."

Their talk turned away from the details of Elle's childhood then. Back toward the farm at present. Lydia reported that the twins were doing well, that Cole and June were planning a trip sometime in the late summer because Tony had gifted them two 'adult-pass' tickets to the Stark Expo in Vegas. Steve, in turn, told June about their research, about Agent Stan Hughes and his contributions to the team, about how fruitless their search for the magician was.

"What if he cleaned the site up?" Lydia asked.

"Loki says he couldn't have."

"Loki isn't very used to being wrong. Still, I guess you have to look for _something_."

"Yeah." Something. Not objects of power, though, that might actually lead them to the person who'd already murdered so many people. Steve had argued that point with Hill twice in the last week. Hill said they had agents out for search and retrieval, and that their team— which had been labeled 'L.E.S.' for their initials (and Elle had either had some part in that, or she liked it too much, because the puns were just constant)— was assigned to protect the D.C. area until further notice.

"Well, your coffee is gone, and I think your hour is up.," Lydia pointed out cheerily. "Unless you want to grab supper here? I know some of the people enjoy the view."

Steve smiled. "No, thanks. I'll get home. Thanks for the coffee, Lydia." He placed his mug in the half-full tiny dishwasher and biked home.

The wind didn't chase away the circular, creeping thoughts. He kept remembering Elle mentioning her dad, looking for any indication that he should have noticed. It was all there, of course, he just hadn't asked about it. Hadn't questioned the seemingly most stable member of their team, because… she seemed fine.

She still seemed fine when he walked back into the apartment. "You should wear a helmet," she commented from her stance in front of the stove. Stew tonight.

"Where's Loki? Still—" Steve caught himself. He wasn't supposed to know. About most things.

"He went to the Tower quick to talk about this tungsten alloy thing with the boys," Elle answered. "In this case, 'the boys' are two middle-aged men and my boyfriend."

The timing was perfect. "How are you doing?" Steve asked, diving right in.

"I'm good. You?"

She wasn't _trying_ to lie. Steve knew that because he did the same damn thing. But he also knew how Elle forced the truth out of him: blunt questions. "Has your dad contacted you lately?"

Elle wasn't a hypocrite. It only took her a moment of nose-wrinkled confusion to sort him out. "No? Mom must have filled you in, huh? What do you want to know?"

Steve leaned against the kitchen-entryway wall. "I don't know. I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'll just tell you what I would want to know," Elle decided. "His name is Ken Engman, first of all. Second, yeah, he didn't know I'm a mutant until the blast thing. He did call me that night, so there's your 'lately'. He was pretty angry. I honestly don't know if he'll contact me again. The rest of his family won't, I know, but they're in Florida, so I barely saw them anyway. Questions?"

Steve watched the carrots, potatoes, beef, celery, corn, peas mix around in the broth. "How do you know about the rest of them?" Because he hadn't even considered an extended family. Just rejection from one parent seemed bad enough.

"Oh, they let me know," Elle said with a chuckle. "My holidays are a lot less complicated now."

This was exactly why Steve hadn't known anything was wrong, he realized. Even now, Elle seemed so calm about it. Like this was a long-foreseen plot twist in one of her books. "But how do you feel about that?"

Elle's grin grew. "You sound like a therapist. I'm okay, promise. I knew this was coming. They never liked mutants, Steve. I'm just glad the News told them so I don't have to." She looked sympathetic. "I'm freaking you out. It's really okay. Okay?"

"Okay." It wasn't okay, not really, but she'd dealt with it long before he'd met her. "Will you tell me if I can help with anything?"

"Yes. Like now, you could get that loaf of bread I forgot to take out of the fridge, slice it, and butter it for the oven."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Steve kept them on the same early afternoon hours the next day, though they started earlier in the morning. The buildings they canvassed were all disappointments again, but they found this Bar-B-Q place with amazing dry ribs during their lunch break.

" _Steve, do you still have a six-pack after eating all that?_ "

"Do we really have to discuss it over the comms?" Steve asked. They were recorded by SHIELD for posterity, and Elle's questions grew more randomly personal as she got comfortable with their job.

" _Isn_ _'t this more inappropriate than poking you in the stomach? Oh, shit._ "

"What?" Steve stopped walking. The sound of shouts answered him.

" _I mean, they_ have _guns, but I think I_ _— or, yeah. Scaring them shitless is a good alternative._ _"_

" _It's the alternative that ends in you not getting shot,_ " Loki hissed. " _Where is your suit?!_ _"_

" _I haven't worn it all day. Incognito mode?"_ A giggle. _"'L.E.S.' is more?"_

"What are we looking at?" Steve demanded, running with his hand to his ear. No time to retrieve his shield from the Jarvis car. No time for anything except sprinting, bouncing off corners so he could get to his team in the next building over. They'd been stupid about this, each taking a multi-level abandoned factory by the docks.

" _Oh, they_ _'re just growing weed. Loki, I got this, thanks. Uh, hey, we actually don't want to mess with you. Have you seen any robots around here? No, like real robots. You shouldn't have been hallucinating off just pot, guys. It's really unsafe to mix drugs._ "

Steve finally leapt up the stairs to back his team. The upper-level room was bright with growing lights over tall greens. Men pointed shoddy-looking handguns at Elle and Loki. Elle didn't have her gun drawn, and Loki had gone for two knives for some reason.

"The upper level is a really bad idea," Elle was saying. "You know, the heat signature will come through the roof for satellites, drones, whatever, especially in the winter or at night."

"It's easier to secure the upper floor," replied one man in a denim jacket.

"More windows to cover up, though," muttered another.

"I _told_ you to quit bitching about the windows," said the first man. The first of five.

"Okay, well, if you're not on acid right now, could you just answer the robot question?" Elle asked.

"Like Iron Man or whatever? I ain't seen nothing like that."

The other five men nodded and muttered agreement.

"They actually do look a little like Iron Man, yeah. Okay, thanks." Elle pulled a card out of her back pocket. "Call this number if you do see anything, but make sure it's real. Okay?"

The man in the denim eyed Loki as he took the card. "No name."

"Nope. Hey, do you sell prescription drugs?"

"Nah, you need a hookup?"

"No," Elle said. "Just deciding whether I'd call the cops on you." She walked back, and Loki followed her out of the room.

"You scared them, Steve. Loki, they thought your knives were cool but weird."

"I thought you weren't a mind-reader?" Loki teased.

"Elle, you're not calling the cops on the drug dealers?"

"Did you call the cops on every speakeasy you knew about?" Elle asked him. "They'll move out of here anyway, if they're even a little bit smart. Maybe to someplace on a _lower level!_ "

"They heard you," Loki informed her. "They're cursing at you."

"Hey, thanks for trying to help me not get shot."

"I would be the one cursing you if you did."

Steve shook his head. This was… a change. From even a week ago. "Let's go home before you get any more death threats. Either of you."

"All of us," Elle agreed. "Oh, Mom's coming over tonight. I'll get stuff ready. You guys go spar."

"Because ordering us around will improve your mood?" Loki asked, settling into the passenger seat.

"No," Elle said from the back, "because you're less snippy after you've kicked Steve's ass."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Steve did prepare to get his ass kicked, and Loki obliged. This was friendly, though. Fun. Loki was a very verbal partner, so he made sure to point out everything Steve did wrong. And Steve gradually grew more comfortable answering with his own sarcasm when he had enough breath to do so.

"You're getting sloppy, old man," Steve taunted Loki with a grin. It was nice to call someone else that, for once.

"Captain, you will eat those words." Loki launched a ferocious attack that sent Steve whirling through the air in just seconds.

When he landed, Steve stood and wiped the sweat from his face. "Call it a day?"

"Certainly." Loki took the towel Steve tossed him and followed him out of the ring. "I overheard Eleanore persuading Lydia to let her cook for this evening."

Steve laughed. "You gonna help?"

"If I am allowed." Loki rubbed a hand over his face in exasperation.

Steve smiled along at that. Elle hated sharing the tiny kitchen. Cooperative cooking experiments so far had resulted in repeated offers of, 'Oh, I can do that. Don't worry about that. Here, try this (very simple thing to get you out of my way because you're making a mess).' Because Elle was improving in the sparring ring very quickly, but the same could not be said for Steve's cooking skills in a modern kitchen. And Loki made messes just to annoy her.

"Did you cook much on Asgard?" he asked as they climbed the cement staircase toward the gym's entrance.

"Not on Asgard, no," Loki informed him. "But I have some experience with field cookery. In actual fields, sometimes."

"Those were the days." Steve smiled. "I've had my share of campfire meals… you know. Back then." The smile faded as memories surfaced.

"Suppose I transform the stove into a bonfire today, and we can see how the pasta fares." Loki knew what to say to distract Steve from melancholy thoughts. Steve had begun privately thinking that God of Intuition would be a better name for him, mythologically. Then again, the myths didn't hold that much truth, according to Loki and Thor.

"What about the dress story?" Steve asked out of the blue. "It says you and Thor dressed up like women and tricked some guy."

"My, my. How word travels through the realms." Loki actually laughed for a moment as he and Steve passed the new coffee shop, halfway home. "Can you relate it in more detail? I wish to hear what was skewed."

"I only heard Elle talk about it once," Steve admitted. "Someone stole the hammer, and Thor was going to get in trouble, so you decided to dress up like women to get it back. Are you saying that happened?"

"Oh, so long ago," Loki chuckled. "The Golden Prince would be livid if he knew I was telling you this. And he will, too, when he receives a report from Heimdall." That thought seemed to delight the demigod further until he was laughing in earnest.

"So you came up with that plan." Steve prompted, not intimidated by the mention of Thor but wanting to distract Loki from it.

"Well, you mortals seem to have simplified the tale," Loki told him around a dry grin. "In fact, it was the least violent plan… in my mind. Of course, Thor managed to—"

A crash interrupted. A screech, screams, from around the corner.

"I'm not transporting us into the unknown," Loki informed Steve.

"We can run there," Steve decided, his stomach sinking. The sound was coming from in front of their apartment building. Elle would be safe, locked away in the Loki-barred walls, but someone still could have tried to get to them. An attack at home… and in a residential building.

But the building was intact and far from the smoking heap of a car surrounded by milling people.

Steve recognized the roof's color before he knew the shape of the mangled metal. "That's Elle's car." It was jaggedly missing most of its front half— literally torn from where the hood should have been to the driver's seat. Its tire marks stretched from a crumbled indent in the pavement to its resting place meters away. Other cars were blasted back at least fifty feet in every direction. They were rolled into shop windows across the street, spun into piles. Their drivers stumbled around in a daze.

"She's not…" Loki was gone and back in a moment. "The dragon is in the apartment. I don't sense her."

"It was tall and silver! I saw it!" claimed a balding old man. "Landed right on the hood, then the hood was _gone_!"

"What are you talking about?" Loki demanded, leaning very close.

"A robot. Or something. Metal man? It was so loud!"

Steve placed a hand on Loki's back to remind him… of something. "The robot took the woman?"

"Took half the goddamn car, son! Just look at that thing."

"She was trying to brake," said a young woman. "It smashed her windshield, and she tried to stop, but then we were all going back."

Steve noted the blood dripping from a cut on the woman's forehead. He pulled a handkerchief out of his gym bag. "Ma'am, you were in the car behind?"

"Sort of, in the other lane. To the side. That's my car, the blue one." She pointed to a formerly sleek Chevy now flipped upside down the long way.

"I will find her," Loki said impatiently. "You direct—"

"— We need to stay together," Steve insisted. That was most important. "We have to, you and me. I know— I _know_ ," he said when Loki started shaking his head. "It's a transport, isn't it?"

"She's not dead. Odin would not hesitate— she is not dead."

Steve forced his voice to calm while the crowd scurried around them. Ambulances and police cars were already approaching. "We'll find her. We— I'll call it in. We'll get clues. Just stay close?"

Loki ground his teeth. Drew in a deep breath. Nodded.

"Thank you," Steve said. Because no one else was there to do it.

SHIELD and Darren Stark got there in seven minutes. Seven minutes of confusion, of Loki growling people away from Elle's car, of magic glowing and Steve trying to reassure everyone that the ambulances would take them and they were no longer in danger.

Tony and Bruce were on their way from New York in one of the faster quinjets, less than half an hour out. An investigative team got out of one SUV, equipment in hand. Natasha and Clint were both there, naturally. And Darren, whose stiff stance and wild glances begged Steve for a 'false alarm.'

Steve couldn't even give him an 'It'll be okay.'

"We were at the gym," he started, gesturing to include Loki in his statement. "We thought she was at home. We saw the car when we were walking back."

"Any eyewitnesses?" Clint asked professionally.

"No one acting suspicious," Loki said. "I have employed all the seeking spells I know, and they have turned nothing up."

"She's just _gone_?" Darren asked incredulously, his voice rasping quiet. Steve wondered how much Natasha and Clint had prepared him on the ride over. "She could have fought kidnappers off, I mean… come on."

"Lets gather what we can," Steve told the younger man, trying to sound like he knew what he was doing. Not that that could fool Darren, but the tone might make him feel better. Elle said nonverbals were often more important than words.

"What was she wearing today?" one of the agents asked, stylus poised over a tablet.

"Green shirt with gray slacks and gray loafers," Darren answered automatically. He'd video called through the phone that morning to ask Elle about some scheduling thing, and Elle had asked him his opinion on her shoes. "Loki, can't you find her with the tie?"

Steve kind of understood what he was asking. Loki shook his head. "Proximity is still a factor. I can find no trace of her within five of your miles."

All this uncertainty was even preferable to the questions that followed once more SHIELD agents showed up.

They separated Steve from Loki slightly to ask about their day, their sightings, whether they'd seen anything strange.

"Has she seemed 'off' at all to you?" Agent Booker wound down, looking up from his small notebook.

"No, everything's been…" _peaceful, nice, relaxing, fun,_ "normal." Normal, considering they were trying to find a mass-murderer. Behind him, Steve heard Tony's quinjet hovering and raising again as the billionaire and the scientist disembarked to join the milling crowd of investigators.

"What about her relationship with Mr. Stark?" Booker asked. Steve raised an eyebrow at him, and the agent raised his hands placatingly. "These are the questions, Captain. I have to cover all the bases."

"If you mean Darren, they're fine. And he was at SHIELD all day." Steve remembered how excited Elle was to see the younger Stark. Being superheroes really cut into their date nights. The couple hadn't seen each other in a few days because of schedule conflicts and missions and tech shows and experiments. Darren had said he'd be in DC for a quite a while this time, working on coding and overseeing network security implementations. Steve had been happy for them. They deserved some down time together.

"What about the rest of the team? Any conflicts?"

"No." The team was… pretty great. Steve didn't know how much he trusted Natasha, and he didn't appreciate her and Clint's close loyalty to SHIELD, but the Avengers were a disjointed something-or-other. In no small part, this was thanks to Eleanore.

"Do you have any suspicions about who could have taken her? Where she might be?"

"I don't." Steve sighed, looking over his shoulder. "I'd like to speak with my team on this, too. We might come up with something."

"I'll let you get back to them," Booker agreed. "I'll go see how Mackenzie is doing on the video footage."

"Thank you." Steve strode back to the group. The agents around them were also wrapping things up. "Let's get to SHIELD," Steve decided. "We can hash things out, go over theories."

They listened to him, thankfully. Piled into an SUV on the outskirts of the chaos and sat silently in the minutes it took to reach the Triskelion. The vehicle dropped them off at the front entrance, and the team trekked inside.

Hill greeted them in the lobby. "The usual lab is ready for you."

"What evidence do we have?" Darren asked, now distantly authoritative.

"We're looking into every possible organization," Hill assured him. "You'll get live updates and all the information we dig up."

Darren nodded at her and continued past with the rest of the team. Tony raised a hand to pat his son's shoulder. Bruce murmured something about sensors and drones and 'soon'.

"Captain," Hill said as Steve was about to follow them, "may I have a word?"

The Avengers stopped and looked back. Steve nodded reassurance to them. "I'll meet you up there." They left with a lot of backwards glances. Steve turned back to Hill, feeling like a hypocrite after telling Loki to 'stay close'. "What is it?"

"Just a second," she said, watching as everyone turned the corner to the elevators. "Okay, follow me."

Steve did follow her to a small, main floor conference room with lots of displays lit up with the investigation. It was the same room they'd taken the Jane Foster confrontation, but now Elle's SHIELD I.D. photo next to video surveillance footage of her and Steve and Loki running around that day shone on the screen.

"What's this about?" he asked, looking squarely at Agent Hill.

"Loki used you as an alibi." Hill cut right to the chase.

"He was with me all day," Steve said, trying to stay calm in the face of something angering.

"Yes, well. I have to ask," Hill shrugged and put a hand on her hip.

"You don't, actually," Steve interrupted. "Loki was with us or with me, like I just said. He and I went to spar, and that's where we were when Elle was taken. I bet you can find footage of that, can't you?"

"Captain Rogers, I wouldn't be asking without a reason." Hill did a much less intimidating _look_ than Elle and Lydia did. Hereditary, Steve supposed.

"What's the reason?" he challenged.

"Watch this." Hill touched the display closest to her, pulling up a map of DC with lots of little blue pulsing dots in every district. "This is the energy map we developed when we were investigating the bombing. It measures 'magical' surges. Picks up extra things, still, but we're working the bugs out. Agent Engman actually shows up, if we turn the sensitivity up when she's outside. Jet and Loki are always on here." She pointed to the gym, where a single green dot was exiting the building. An orange dot was in Elle's apartment, completely still, with the letters L.K.L next to it.

Steve looked at the time stamp, which was moving only slightly faster than real time. "That's when we were leaving."

"I know. Watch." Hill pointed to where Elle's car had been found. A couple seconds passed, which added up to a few minutes on the map's recording. Then a blue dot flickered, slid along, and disappeared. Loki's dot was still by the coffee shop.

"They had magic?" Steve asked, storing the flash away to show Loki and Darren when he went to the lab.

"And Loki didn't sense it," Hill added. "Isn't that kind of his thing?"

"Loki said Jet was asleep when he checked the apartment out," Steve said. "If Jet didn't notice, and he was even closer, then Loki wouldn't have either."

"Just keep an eye out," Hill said cautiously. "I know he's been helping lately, but remember how we met this guy."

Steve felt the stern expression of Captain America fall into place naturally. "I remember. Mind control. Just like I remember his recovery, and every day he's been here."

"It's my job to be suspicious." Hill shrugged. "We need to examine every possibility."

Steve ignored the excuse. "I'll go alert my team of this discovery. We have a lot of work to do."

 _ **A/N: I can**_ _ **'t say a lot about this, except it is part of a larger plot that I have been planning for this story. Hope you like the chapter, and the new format I'm trying— more scene-based and shorter to cut some clutter. Please know that you shouldn't have to wait too long for the next chapter, as much of it is already planned, and some is written.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **I**_ _ **'m glad you liked the 2 chapters in 1 weekend! Maybe Loki will eventually learn not to push buttons, but who knows? He's the kind of guy who enjoys a surprise.**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **I**_ _ **'m glad you liked the lighthearted and fun chapter! I have been trying not to be *too* dramatic in this story, although there are obviously a lot of heavy topics to cover. I'm hoping a sense of humor leaks in once in a while, and I know everyone needs a break from the tears. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**_

 **Anonymous:** _ **Thanks so much for the encouragement! I**_ _ **'m glad you're enjoying this story. I probably heartily agree with you about the first 10 minutes of Infinity War… although I am optimistically skeptical.**_

 **Everyone else:** _ **Thanks for reading! I love hearing your thoughts!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	34. Ch 34: L Search

Finding Eleanore's belongings in the garbage had been what Loki would define as _bad_. Watching the security camera footage of her capture when he knew he was mere meters away was _worse_. Watching the Avengers process her disappearance, especially seeing the emptiness cross Darren's eyes, was _terrible_. But by far the worst experience was walking back into the apartment.

Two unfamiliar SHIELD agents were there. Loki ignored them, his eyes turning to the source of a familiar smell. Pasta was sitting in a pot of water on the stove, partially boiled. Half-cooked hamburger was seasoned and seared in a pan on the next burner.

He could imagine every move she'd made just by looking around the apartment. There was the book she'd been reading, dog-eared on the arm of her chair. Charlie's food and water were freshly refilled, and the litter box was clean. The floor was spotless, and so were the shelves on the television stand. Her laptop was open, its music program paused on a song she'd been singing to herself recently, which was set to play on repeat. Her bed was made, and her laundry basket sat on the bar stool with dryer sheets in it. There were dirty dishes in the sink, collected from around the apartment. The garbage can was missing a bag, and the empty egg carton was sitting on the counter, forgotten in Eleanore's haste to get to the store because she'd only _just_ remembered something they needed and it couldn't wait.

 _This won_ _'t do,_ Loki's mind commented. He picked up the dishes and put them in the washer, put a bag in the can. Took the dryer sheets across the hall and changed the clothes over while Clint talked to the agents. June and Alan were on their way to support Lydia, who was being escorted to this apartment. It was ideal, Clint said, to make sure someone was here in case of a ransom message. And family, said the spy, could be good in tough times.

The question of sleeping arrangements was answered before it was asked. In fact, there were just the right number of beds for how many people would be staying to sleep in the two apartments. Loki changed his own sheets so he could offer his room to either of the relatives if Eleanore's quarters proved too painful. All his princely hosting training came back. The gist of it: make sure your guests feel comfortable and welcome and safe. The apartment was safe. Just outside the apartment was not, but these walls contained enough magic to hold off an air strike. June and Alan would be secure here.

"Plane's fifteen minutes out. Lydia's packed and ready to head here," Barton reported as Loki placed the green bedspread evenly and tucked it into the bottom of the mattress. The trained killer surveyed the work with a critical eye. "First time making a bed?"

"Third." And Loki had growled at Eleanore the last time she'd tried telling him how to do the menial task almost a week ago. While she hadn't seemed to take offense, Loki wished he'd let her explain. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Tag on the comforter goes on the bottom, first of all." Clint undid the tucking and turned the blanket around. "Second, this pillowcase is inside out. Jeez, nice thread count. Laura's always saying it matters. You can tuck the bottom in again."

Loki noted the mention of the mysterious Laura Barton, but disregarded it. He felt like there was something missing. "A moment." He got a dryer sheet out of the top dresser drawer and tucked it under the fitted sheet. "She insists on that."

The smell was already getting to him, bringing up memories starting from his first night in this very room. How different the situations were, and how long ago that seemed. Then, he'd have been glad to see any mortals dead, especially Eleanore and Steve. Today, he had taken a moment alone on the roof of the Triskelion to ask Heimdall for help in finding her alive. He'd gotten what he wanted in neither case.

"We're gonna find her," Clint commented casually. "You know? And I'll make sure you get a crack at whoever did this. No cameras, no questions asked."

"Thank you." Loki knew compassion when he saw it. It was strangely prevalent on this planet. "I may hold you to that."

"You and the entire team. Why do you have a cat?" Clint eyed Charlie, who was trying to climb Loki's pant leg.

Loki picked him up and held him like a baby. "He was here before I was. Eleanore habitually takes in strays."

Clint tentatively scratched Charlie's stomach. "Calm little thing."

"She calls him an attention whore." Loki grinned down affectionately at the animal with its large, green eyes. He sobered again instantly, recalling his duties. "Fifteen minutes, you said."

"More like ten now. I'll get rid of the agents."

With their departure, the apartment became far too quiet. Loki turned on the dishwasher, the coffee pot, lit one of the less-favored candles that was supposed to smell like fresh cookies. Got rid of the half-done food, hearing Eleanore's complaint about waste over and over again in his mind. _"You can't just throw stuff away. You never know when you won't have enough."_ He'd order in, replace the groceries, and hopefully hear all about the irresponsibility of his actions when ( _if!_ ) she was recovered. He partially lowered the blinds and turned on the lamp to give the apartment privacy. Clint stationed himself on the roof when the plane was reportedly five minutes out. When one of those minutes was left, Loki joined him.

He could hear the jet, despite the silent stealth mode, as it lowered to hover over the building's gravel-covered roof. The door opened, and he reached out to catch June as she made the leap alongside her son.

"What the hell happened?" was her first question. She sounded like her sister and her niece, and Loki felt himself fall into habitual truthfulness and protection as he motioned to the door.

"We can discuss it inside. Lydia will be here soon as well." He led them down the stairs and into the apartment. It was calming, too much like coming home after a long day. Loki shook himself mentally and remembered his manners. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"What the hell happened?" Alan echoed his mother, finding his voice for the first time.

Loki resigned himself to repetition. "She was lured down the block, away from Jet and I, and taken. We could not sense the magic that took her away, but we have video evidence."

"No leads yet, but we'll find them," Clint added, crossing his arms and looking for all the world like a professional agent. One who knew what was going on, who understood what needed to be done.

"Wait, wait." Alan held up his hands as June just stared at the floor. "Loki, Elle kicks ass. She's on the news all the time, and they call her dangerous. How does she just get 'taken'?"

"Anyone can get caught off-guard." Clint answered the boy with a frown. "This thing just appeared and transported her away. Part of her car, too. Can't really train against that."

They'd agreed not to show Eleanore's family the video evidence gathered from the various cameras that exhibited the flash and crumpling of the car. It was disturbing enough to see as a… Loki couldn't imagine what it must be like for those who still thought of her, at times, as the little girl from the photos at the farm house and in Lydia's room.

"What can we do?" June asked tremulously as tears started dripping down her cheeks. She sat on the couch and put her face in her hands, letting out a sob. "What can we _do_?"

Loki wasn't used to women from Eleanore's family cracking under pressure. Eleanore said she waited until the crisis was definitely over to 'freak out,' and that she'd learned it from her mother. Freaking out, for her, usually meant sleeping or reading, as she'd done when they returned from the mission with the gun-pointing 'pot' dealers. If she ever needed emotional support, she'd never asked Loki for it. June must be more… susceptible. "For now, we need you to stay with Lydia here, and monitor the apartment. If Eleanore is being held for ransom, they will likely send a message here, where it is more difficult to trace."

"We've got agents stationed on all the surrounding roofs," Clint added. "We'll have some in the hall, too, and one team member will be here at all times. This is my shift, since Loki lives here."

Lydia walked through the door, then, without knocking or ceremony. Loki turned and met her eyes, and found fear and accusation. "Where were you?" she asked, cold and distant.

Loki absently wondered if proximity to death made mortals more unnervingly authoritative. "Steve and I were at the gym," he answered truthfully. "They caught her once she was away from Jet as well, and neither of us sensed the magic." No use promising to find Eleanore, and no use apologizing. He moved so she could walk to a comfortable chair.

June rushed into her sister's arms with another sob. "It's going to be okay. They'll find her."

Lydia rolled her eyes, and shrugged out of her sister's embrace. "I know they will. She might escape herself, for all we know. Elle's strong like that."

"So we can't do _anything_ ," Alan stated dejectedly.

Loki sympathized with him. "You have my number, and Darren's and Steve's. We will keep you updated with any new developments."

"Go find her," Lydia ordered, shrugging out of June's embrace. She was all business now.

"I will." Loki accepted the blame in her eyes and donned his armor again, knowing the show of strength would at least make Alan and June feel better. Pointless, really, because all Loki could do was follow up on useless leads until they actually found something to go on. Steve wanted the team in the same city at all times until they could move out.

Still, he transported to SHIELD's lab, where the rest of the Avengers were gathered around different computer screens. Darren was typing away on one, alone, intensely focused and ignoring everyone around him. Natasha was next to Bruce, going over the video footage in meticulous detail with enhanced imaging software. Steve was hypothesizing to Tony, who was shooting him down at every turn.

"No offense, Star Spangled Man, but you haven't seen anything to indicate they're targeting the team. Stark enemies seem a lot more likely. Jarvis, get me a list of people who hate us, from most to least, and their known criminal affiliates." Tony pulled up a display with a long list of humans, most of whom owned rival companies Loki had heard of in Eleanore and Darren's conversations about patents and copyright infringement.

This, Loki could navigate. "The magician has been dogging our steps since Steve was captured." He came to rest beside the Captain, who looked grateful for an ally. "It stands to reason that the Avengers are his target. Why else would he take our healer?"

"Why _would_ he take Elle, when she's one of the least powerful Avengers?" Tony challenged.

"Psychological effect," Natasha called from across the room. "Take someone we rely on, and we've got a weak spot."

"Exactly," Steve agreed readily. "And we're going to be running around, distracted, trying to find her. Perfect time to attack."

This was good. Loki could hear Eleanore's approval in his mind. Something like, " _Well, at least they_ _'re focused._ " They were clinical about this, detached, and that was how the Avengers worked best. Loki glanced over at Darren, who appeared to be tuning them out. He walked over, wondering how the youngest Stark was actually handling this situation.

"More drones inbound," Darren told him as he approached. "Although she's probably not in the city, is she?"

"I'd say not," Loki agreed. "Still, they can fan out. Are satellites sensitive enough to pick up the energy?"

"They will be." Darren opened another window and started typing code into the black and green box. "You get the relatives set up?"

"Assembled in the apartment," Loki confirmed.

"That's good. Thank you." Darren was winding tighter with strain and trying not to show it. "I… I wouldn't have handled that well. Must have been tough for you."

Loki realized he was trying to emulate Eleanore's empathy. It was intentional; the boy stopped and thought a moment before every statement. "No more difficult, I suspect, than listening to this bickering."

"They're not so bad." Darren gave a wry grin, looking over to where Natasha was now adding to the list of suspects alongside Tony and Steve. He sighed. "Do you have any hunches? Because I'm coming up blank."

"The magician," Loki said uselessly. "But I've no idea of his true target. Nor his real motivation for stealing her away."

"Guess that's what we have Clint and Natasha for," Darren said, resignedly. "Too bad he stole Elle, though. She's pretty good at guessing this stuff out."

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Guesses were all they had. Guesses and proof they were wrong. Loki learned about Midgardian missing-person protocols, and how precious the first forty-eight hours were in finding someone alive.

That only made it worse when those forty-eight hours were gone. The shortest two days of Loki's life, past with no trace. No evidence. Only an array of computer screens and short trips to various suspect locations. They found that the 'pot' dealers had not relocated, which proved to Loki that they were definitely too stupid to have had any hand in taking Eleanore. After the second day of no magic at any of the places they went, Loki retreated to the lab and let the drone-laden scanners do their work.

He spent his time alternately talking to Cecil about the sensors and Darren about magical theory. Tony stopped by, but he stayed uncharacteristically silent. Steve gave Loki every ground-run report in person; easy enough to do, since they all contained no useful information. The Captain also took over visiting their apartments to update the family. Loki knew how much worse they were feeling from the strain in Steve's shoulders every time he came back.

"We'll find her," Steve promised at the end of each interaction. "Thanks for your help."

Darren thanked him, too. "I know it's kind of a… well. But I'm glad you're helping look."

Loki mustered his frayed nerves for the younger Stark. The boy had been picking up Eleanore's end of the emotional support of the team alongside Clint and Steve. He had gotten Loki disgusting, bitter 'espresso' with every meal. He'd cut Tony off when the older man began a tirade, and suggested he catch some sleep. Darren pulled Natasha and Bruce into conversations, out from the fringes with a, "What do you think?" And he settled uncomfortably into desk chairs that seemed to have too much room for one slim frame.

Loki, likewise, emulated what he had seen Eleanore giving the team. It filled his time and provided a challenge. Steve needed… more than Loki could ever give in the form of affection, but also a good amount of support behind his strategies. Tony needed space as much as he needed coffee, so Loki magicked more into his mug when it ran low. Clint liked to share terrible jokes. Natasha wanted to be left to her own devices. Bruce needed regular breaks to relieve stress. And Darren liked to talk his ideas to exhaustion.

" _A wise prince knows his advisors well_ ," Frigga instructed from his past.

 _Most advisors worth their salt aren_ _'t this simple to read,_ Loki retorted in his mind.

He missed having someone to argue with. To prove wrong, or to push him toward new ideas based on Midgardian ways of thinking. As his weariness grew, he found himself turning to his right side and staring at the floor or desk or window for no reason.

"Steve's doing the ol' Absent-Buddy-Twist too," Tony observed. "But I think Darren has you both beat on form."

And he was right for once. "Ironic that this is when she'd be most useful," Loki replied.

Tony took a drink. "I guess that's one way of looking at it. Hey, do you do creamer in addition to your magic coffee beans? Because I think we could open a business. Also, look at this map."

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"I'd say go easy on the chairs," Bruce commented, ambling up to Loki's side in the golden morning light, "but I guess I don't care as long as Tony doesn't have to pay for them."

Loki quit clutching the metal arm. His fingers remained indented, shining at an angle in the lab's lights.

Bruce propped his hip on the edge of the desk. "Listen, I know I'm only a human doctor, but it's really not healthy to go days without sleep. Probably bad even for you. Everyone needs a break."

"Your concern is noted, Doctor Banner." Loki knew that concern stemmed from kindness, so he kept his tone even, though all he wanted was to scream and rip things apart and maybe fight the Hulk again.

"There's the cot room still set up across the hall?" Bruce pressed.

"Thank you, no."

Clint waited until that night to plop a brown paper bag in front of the screen. "It's like stakeout food. Gotta fuel," he explained.

Loki opened the brown bag to find a Chicken Caesar Salad with an apple on the side. "Thank you."

"Wanna go for a walk? After you eat. I'd say you've made a pretty good butt imprint here."

"Perhaps." Loki wolfed his way through the greens. A walk did sound like something. Something other than sitting here and listening to Steve's voice quiet Tony's panic and Darren's silent key-tapping.

It was a warm night. Humid, too.

"Cap calls this 'city summer'," Clint commented, leaning his head back to look up at the barely-visible stars.

Loki watched the river meandering past the paved path. "I don't have anything."

"Figured you would have let us know if you did. You fish on Asgard?"

"Sometimes." He sighed. "It's been three days."

"This isn't even close to your team's record of hide-and-seek."

A laugh— more of a strained bark, really— escaped Loki's chest. It cut into his throat. He didn't have any words to offer in return. Nothing positive, anyway. _Does it count as a record, if the person_ _'s really dead and not just imprisoned or frozen?_

"What kind of fish are on Asgard?" Clint continued.

"I don't know how to liken them to your understanding. The ones we use for sport are about as long as your arm with blue flesh that turns purple when you cook it. Their scales are reflective, so they blend in with the water."

"That would be some fun fishing," Clint decided. "I like going up north from my house to the lakes once in a while. Cooper is old enough to enjoy it, now, but he likes wading to look for crayfish. Also, splashing Lila."

Loki glanced around with every form of vision he possessed. He also cast a spell around them for invisibility and sound-distortion. If people tried to listen, they would only hear the dirty-smelling river's chatter. "For a spy, you are very forthcoming. Even mortal technology could have heard you."

"I want _you_ to hear me. I've got this, though." The archer held up a smaller version of Eleanore's privacy-generator, as Loki had come to think of it. "But thanks for having my six."

"You cover your own 'six'. Or Romanov does," Loki hedged.

"I just like talking about my kids sometimes. It's hell when most of the people I work with don't know they exist."

"And prolonged abductions bring them to mind?"

Clint grinned. "Everything brings them to mind. I should have you over sometime. Whenever Laura promises not to skewer you with a pitchfork."

"Yes, please make sure I don't have to fight your wife. And perhaps have Tony Stark manufacture the pitchfork if she insists on using it."

The cell phone in Clint's pocket vibrated. He picked it up, unlocked the screen, which Loki did not observe because he had learned it was considered rude. He'd learned this from Darren, because Eleanore willingly showed anyone who wanted to know. "Whatever magic you have on us is making everyone antsy."

Loki flared a bit just because he could out here, away from really valuable lab instruments. Then he made his power visible to Clint and withdrew the spells. "Refrain from saying anything compromising, now."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound suspicious at all. Let's go inside again before they skewer us with something worse than a pitchfork."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

Hours later, Loki could still smell that river. It was polluted and foul, not like Asgard at all. Not like the filtered air of the lab, either. And the chatter here was nothing like the peaceful water.

"… what can we do, though? Three goddamn _days_ of this! She could be anywhere on Earth by now."

"We know, Tony," Steve said. Again. "But we have reason to believe she's close. So what we _can_ _'t_ do is give up."

"I'm not saying give up. I'm saying… maybe we lure this asshole out? A little magic show?"

Loki set his jaw. "Mortals would very likely die."

Tony's face scrunched in disbelief. "Since when do you care about that?"

"Since it wouldn't help our cause. The magician knows where we are. I'm as much of a lure as they'll get."

"You're not alone," Tony pointed out.

"And he won't be," Steve said firmly.

"I'm sorry, aren't you the guy who was all gung-ho to use yourself as bait? Why not a much more durable demigod?"

"Because we don't have guarantees. We knew what Tiryaki wanted."

"And we know that this magician ultimately wants me," Loki said, "but that trap of yours would be obvious. More than obvious. A child could avoid it."

Tony shook his head. "But could a child resist it? I'm talking Rockefeller Center here, the whole shebang. You _and_ Jet, who is just _lying_ here."

There was a moment's pause. All three men looked around the lab for… nothing. Because Eleanore wasn't there to correct them.

"He's saving his strength," Loki said. And Steve said, at the same time, "We need him to be ready."

"Ready for—" Tony started to shout.

Jarvis cut him off. " _Sir, a communication._ "

"… _this. Record this, Jarvis. Track the phone_ _— Tony? Did you answer?_ "

"Elle?!"

" _I_ _'m at the meadow. Well, almost. Near it. That's what the GPS says on this thing._ "

" _Calculations complete,_ " Jarvis reported. Every screen in the room lit up with a dot moving slowly through some trees.

" _Cool, thanks Jarvis."_

"What do you see?" Loki demanded. "Where exactly are you?"

" _Trees and grass. Is it almost morning? I was held underground in this_ _— fuck. I have to toss it. Find the phone!_ "

The line clattered. Shots rang through, then a rumpled noise. Then silence.

Steve's hand on Loki's arm interrupted his transportation preparation.

"What?!" Loki hissed.

"We'll come with you," Steve said. "Tony, suit up."

"On it." The red and gold crashed through the window. "I'll pay for that," Tony said as the metal mask closed over his face."

Jet was a snake slithering up Loki's leg and around his neck. His armor shimmered into place. Darren and Bruce were coming in the hall door.

Steve squeezed Loki's arm through the greave. "How many—?"

"— Anyone here in the next ten _seconds_!" Loki was going to shoot out of his skin at all these delays.

Darren's suit broke another window and clanked into place. "Yeah, let's go!"

Bruce backed up. "I'll jet over with Clint and Natasha."

"Make it quick," Steve instructed.

And then, mercifully, metal hands met Loki's armor.

He was careful about the transportation. The meadow's grass met them, along with the dew-damp breeze.

"Elle?" Darren called immediately over Tony's cursing.

"Stick together," Steve instructed, now holding the younger Stark back from taking off.

Tony finally quiet cursing, placing his hand where his ear would be. "I don't have a signal on her."

"No, but there's magic over there." Darren pointed to the sludge showing through the trees to the north.

"Then we go carefully," Steve decided.

"We go _now,_ " Loki growled. The magic was dissipating, but it was powerful enough to show it had been another transportation. Eleanore was no longer there.

They ran through the trees. A couple of black-clad bodies marked a crooked path. There were bullet holes in the tree trunks. No blood that Loki could sense.

"Hang on," Tony commanded. He knelt and picked something up. A cracked, tiny cell phone. The screen still lit to show a phone number Loki knew from his phone's contact list: Tony's.

"I've got a building over there," Darren said. "Three quarters of a mile. Looks like cement and metal."

The whir of an un-silenced quinjet came from the direction he pointed.

"Your reinforcements are here," Loki stated impatiently. He took off at a sprint.

Steve caught up, barely. "What would we look for to avoid an explosion?"

"Probably, you should avoid me altogether," Loki supplied.

"Guess I'm getting blown up, then."

"Um, anyone think about comlinks before you disappeared?" Clint asked from in front of the quinjet.

"We were a _bit_ preoccupied," Loki retorted.

"Well, here. So you can _hear_. Get it?" The shorter man crossed his arms. "Whatever. Elle would laugh."

Gunshots started up then. From above, from behind the plane.

Jet surged to life, ripping through a couple of robots that came within reach.

"We don't know the layout," Steve was saying. "Used to be an old winery and storage, abandoned ten years ago."

"So stay behind us, Cap," Tony suggested.

That they did. Loki used sparse magic to deflect the bullets that made it around the Iron Man duo. Natasha and Clint came last.

Loki spread his perception as soon as they ducked inside. The walls and floor were also cement coated in metal. He could sense life, but nothing familiar. The only things close enough to identify were some foolish guards clad in the same black as the corpses in the woods.

"It's a labyrinth," Natasha said, showing everyone her scanner. Everyone who could spare a glance.

Steve took command. "Natasha, you're with Loki. Clint, with Tony. Darren, with me. Keep in radio contact. Let's go."

The building didn't seem large enough to house as many humans as it did. White coated lab rats, as Clint called them, scurried and screeched about "No weapons! I'm just a researcher!"

"Leave them for questioning," Natasha instructed. She also threw out some cuffs that glued the panicked scientists to the walls and floor.

The robots said nothing. Loki didn't give them much of a chance to speak anyway. He crushed them before they could come close until their path back was littered with rounded, spiked breadcrumbs.

Screams beckoned from further in. Loki ripped a door apart, but he already knew this wasn't Eleanore.

It was a man covered in fur. He had a drill in his chest, blood spurting from the wound and from his mouth.

And there was another rat, this one with claws. The blond man sprang at Natasha from behind a shelf. She stabbed his tiny weapon between his eyes.

"End— please, end!" the victim begged. "Just o—over. Done! End?"

Loki noted then that the blood was also pooling to the floor from his arms, which had been skinned bare to the muscle.

"Can you…?" Natasha asked him.

Loki bent over the man. "There's a girl here. Young, with brown hair. She could heal you. Where is she?"

"She can't— we can't. They don't let us." English wasn't right on this man's already-garbled tongue.

Natasha stepped in, said something quickly in bulky words. "Are there others? We have to help them."

"Others in cells," the man confirmed in the same language. His voice rose. "I don't know where. I tried! Please!"

"First tell us everything," Loki demanded in the Allspeak.

"I woke here! I slept here, woke in the cells! Please! _Please!_ "

There had to be more. Loki eyed the drill already in place, the man's bared arms. _Does it matter who I want to be if I can_ _'t save someone?_

Natasha was the one to finish it. She pulled the drill out and cut the man's neck with her own knife.

"Thank you," he whispered at last.

Death was never easy to swallow, and neither was the bile in Loki's gut. The Other's voice pounded at the sight.

 _Yes! Yes! That_ _'s what you are_ meant _for! This is your calling!_

"Mutants," Natasha said from in front of a laptop. "It's mutant testing. This guy lasted a week."

Loki asked after her unspoken caution. "And others?"

"Ten days at most. Eleanore is in this file. The alive file. As of yesterday at six PM."

Loki stored that laptop away. The other labs the found were empty except for one that held a dead old woman pinned to a wide table by the bird's wings growing out of her back. They took that laptop too.

" _Mutants was right, Nat_ ," Clint confirmed. " _Three labs for me. Saved two. Escorting them out to the jet._ "

" _Steve and I split up. I found this upper level,_ " Darren told them. " _High concentration of magic._ "

" _I_ _'ve got a passageway,_ " Steve reported. " _Guards were heading down there. I_ _'m going in._ "

"Wait for backup," Natasha ordered from beside Loki. "We'll be there in a minute."

There was no answer. Natasha rolled her eyes and Loki shrugged at her. "I would have gone as well."

She didn't seem amused. "Let's go get him."

They followed Jarvis's instructions to Steve's last known location, where they found an open wall segment that led down a dark flight of stairs. Grunts and scuffles scratched their way up the concrete. Loki went first, cautiously brandishing a gun in his outstretched hand. The other rested on his belt for easy access to his knives. Natasha followed, nearly silent, also ready to kill.

The stairwell emptied into a small open area crammed with pulsing bodies. Some were shiny metal, some clad in black and shrouded by cursing shouts. One was navy blue, brandishing a shield, forcing his way through to a dark hall on the other end.

"Back him up!" Natasha shouted, holstering her gun. She leapt into the fray. Men dropped under one or two skillful jabs.

Loki leapt, too. He kept his magic contained; he didn't need it to maim these faceless robots, good for little more than hidden destruction. And these men, who'd been responsible for…

"Elle?!"

Steve was through and in the hallway. He elbowed a couple of attackers back and sprinted to a door, ripping it open.

A gray… humanoid stumbled out. It— she, Loki realized— was weeping. A robot reached for her, and Steve beat it back, pushing the woman behind him and further down the hall.

Loki abandoned his fights. He left doubles and twisted through the writhing masses until he was close enough to see the blood dripping from the hand of the next mutant Steve rescued.

One more door— it could only hold one person. Over the ruckus of a man's crumbling tibia, Loki heard a shout.

"Steve? Steve?!"

Wrenching, desperate… or maybe that was Loki's own state. He tossed his current enemy into a wall and strode forward as that next door opened. Steve glanced back for an instant and, satisfied that Loki wouldn't let the other innocents die, disappeared through the threshold.

The other two mutants turned to Loki, eyes wide. They started for him and met him halfway down the hall, babbling about something, about a doctor, about science and no food and drugs.

Loki brushed right past them, heading for the door, himself. Natasha was behind him; she could care for a couple of civilians. The only person Loki cared about protecting was on the other side of this wall, her voice a rush of relief.

Loki reached the door and used the frame to swing himself around, inside. The moment his hand touched the metal, he felt… it.

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

He blinked. Why was there darkness where Eleanore's white, hopeful face had been? Why was… why was there nothing in his lungs? Why couldn't he _breathe_?! Empty lungs, empty eyes… would he even be able to tell if he blinked? Loki tried it and found that blinking caused more pain and a drifting sensation across his face. Something dragged on his cheek, cold and gritty.

The silence convinced him. This was the prison. He was trapped— perhaps he was _still_ trapped. Would he even know if the Mind Stone had tricked him into believing Eleanore and Steve were real? Into thinking he could save them, somehow? No, he wouldn't, until The Other chose to show him. Right now.

Loki knew struggling was futile, but he also couldn't help himself. There was no _air_. He tried to sit up; at least there was gravity and a sense of up and down right now. But he couldn't sit up. He couldn't….

His eyes were hot. Tears, of course. Thrice-damned, unstoppable, a silent plea for air and mercy. They poured like untethered magic from a novice.

 _Magic?_ Loki clawed his way toward the thought. Yes, magic was still there. It hadn't been here before, on this asteroid. He reached for it and it answered, a sure source of strength.

Loki pressed. The weight on his chest shifted and rose. It crumbled. There were fissures.

 _Underground?_ How had he gotten here? A transportation gone awry? He hadn't been… he hadn't been about to transport his mortals. Had he? Loki paused and drew in a deep breath, trying to think. The air helped, though it coated his throat with dust. He'd seen Eleanore for the first time in five days. She had looked… awful, he remembered. Gaunt and almost hollow, like a child's doll. A doll with a _will_. She'd been pushing at Steve, trying to get him to stop working at the chains on her wrists.

That couldn't be right. They'd been there, right in front of him. Loki strained harder, felt his voice scratch through his chest, though he couldn't hear it. It _couldn_ _'t_ be right, because that would mean his mortals were buried here too, somewhere.

 _This dust_ , he thought in disgust as his magic started to seep higher, to find faults in the whatever-lay-above, _tastes like the ruins of New York_.

Light cracked across his chest. Something green— something very recognizable— hefted a chunk of gray out into the white. It grabbed his leg next in a painful grip and hauled.

Loki emerged into daylight, sputtering. At least, being upside-down helped the dust and spit fall out of his mouth. Oh, and there was blood. Loki watched it drip long and slow down to lumps of concrete and metal. It dripped in his eyes, too. Annoying.

More metal, still gray. Dull and bright at the same time, in different areas. And then, a bit human. Darren was close, he was turning the world right-side-up, holding Loki upright amid trees that reached for the sky. His lips were moving, that much was certain. Loki watched them in fascination. He couldn't read the words falling too-quickly, but he thought some of them looked Vanir.

The trees shrank. No, the ground shrank. No, Loki was floating. Dangling, really, in metal arms. There was orange sparkling below them, around the green, amid the gray. The gray was rising, too, almost as quickly as the ground was rising to meet the crusted boots at the end of his feet.

Those boots found no purchase on the plant-strewn forest floor. There was the red-and-gold man, also saying something Loki couldn't hear, though they were above him. They were… Darren and Tony were kneeling. Tony was moving more quickly by the second. Angry. But it was the silver-dull hand that grabbed Loki's pain-needled shoulder and _shook_.

"— is she?! Where is she?! _Where is she?!_ " Darren shouted, his voice rising with each question. Or, Loki's hearing was rising. The trees shook sideways.

He felt strange magic at work in his head, around his ears. Darren was healing him, and it was sharp. He couldn't see the other man's lips anymore through his eyes— they were closed against the sensory onslaught.

"Stop! Darren! Tony, make him— god, get him out of here!"

The trees were straight upright again. Towering. And there was the archer, the talented human with trick arrows and eyes that saw everything. He, too, grabbed Loki's shoulder, but his touch was gentle.

"Did you get them out?" he asked. Simple. Direct. Worried.

Loki puzzled over who Clint was talking about. He hadn't been trying to get anyone— oh. That was a lie. Not a lie, just untrue. Forgotten. Like Eleanore and Steve.

"I forgot them," he thought aloud.

Clint's eyes widened in horror. "Loki, what? _What?!_ "

Clint shouldn't look like that. Loki struggled. "I… I don't know. I'm… sorry? I'm sorry, Clint. I don't—" What should he say? What _could_ he say to take that haunted terror out of those gray-blue eyes? "What's wrong?" he asked, uselessly. If he understood, then maybe…

Kindness flooded, familiarly. Clint's other hand soothed a disruption of dust off Loki's chest. "Let's go slow," he suggested. "One thing at a time. Where's Steve?"

"Steve?" Steve was saving Eleanore. Why wouldn't Clint know that? "He's with Eleanore," Loki offered.

"Okay," Clint agreed softly, as though he were talking to a child. "Where's Eleanore?"

 _Lost._ Loki almost said it, but it wasn't true, either, if he thought about it. He drew in a deep breath again, felt the crushed pain. Where was she? With Steve? She'd _been_ with Steve. Before. In the room. The room surrounded, _saturated_ with it.

They couldn't be near that. It was disgusting; corrosive. This time, Loki lurched of his own will, dancing the trees, losing track of the sky.

"Easy!" Clint cautioned. His arms were better than metal as they made the world shake straight again. One hand lowered Loki's head to the ground. "Jesus, you're hit bad. What the hell was that? Nevermind," Clint corrected quickly, as Loki opened his mouth the try to answer, "it doesn't matter. Just answer me one thing?"

Loki easily nodded. Then found his eyes had closed. He forced them open. "Yes?"

"Can you sense when people are dead?"

What a strange thing to ask. What did that mean, sensing when people were dead? Could Loki watch their life force drain? Of course. Could he monitor them to make sure they were alive? Yes, depending on the person.

"Do you, uh… feel Steve around here?" Clint asked more slowly.

Loki frowned up at him, then threw his head to the side. The gray was a cloud, now, when the images sharpened again. There were grunts and curses coming from there. And Natasha, all covered in dust, was walking toward them with two strangers in tow.

Not strangers. Another lie. Loki knew those faces. He'd rushed past them. He'd failed them. He'd failed Eleanore.

"Loki?" Clint asked.

There had been a question. It came back hazily. Dreadfully. Sinking, dawning, cold. Loki strained his eyes toward the ground below the gray. He reached for his magic and sent it out to search. _Please. Please, please._

Banner shone, Darren glowed, Jet blazed. Tony was an outline of agitated life. Everything else in that direction was as dead as the clods of debris the heroes shifted.

"Loki?!" Clint demanded more insistently. His hands pressed a bit harder, a reminder.

Loki couldn't meet his gaze, now. "I can't," he said. "I can't sense them."

"Steve and Elle?" Clint confirmed.

Loki nodded. "I can't. I'm… trying." He was _trying_. It was never enough, but Clint had to know. "I _am_ trying."

"I know," the archer promised. "I know you are. I know, buddy." The hand on his shoulder rubbed up and down, and the hand from his chest reached up and smoothed hair back.

Natasha was there. Kneeling. She said nothing. She already knew. A look at Clint, a look at Loki. Standing, motioning, two mutants followed her away.

"Clint…" Loki began. He didn't know where he was going with the words, with the name. It had been the name of a… someone who might have become a friend. Not now, though.

"I know," Clint answered anyway. "It's okay."

Clattering approached. Loki knew the sound, distantly. He associated it with Eleanore, but he didn't need to move to know she wasn't behind him. She was somewhere _out there_. He had to find her. And Steve.

Natasha spoke low. "Let's get him on the jet."

"Let's go, buddy," Clint said. His arms slid under Loki's back. "Jesus, you're heavier than you look, ya string bean. Help me out, here."

Loki obliged as much as he could. His hands were clumsy; they jerked when he least expected it, and his legs were a weakened lost cause. Still, he got onto the gurney behind him and kept his magic searching as he rolled.

The jet was dark and full of voices. Live ones, from the freed strangers and Natasha and Clint, and crackling distant reports from Tony Stark.

" _Yeah, dig there. We_ _'re approaching the right area. I've got a couple of guards… Nothing._ " Silence.

Loki strained upward, but Clint's hand was enough to keep him flat on his back. The rest of the jet had gone quiet. All eyes were on the speakers in the ceiling.

" _No bodies in the room. Nothing in the room. They_ _'re not here, not in the hall… It's all empty._ "

The hand on Loki's chest balled into a fist. "Oh, thank god," said the disturbed dust. No, it was Clint speaking from above the dust. "It's a transport. Right?"

Eyes on him. Looking for answers.

"I…" Loki tried, "I think yes. Yes, they're not there. Not— so they're somewhere else. There would be something, but there isn't, so… yes."

"Awesome. So we just have to find them." A pat, a rattle of arrows, the hand and friend were gone. "Nat, let's open up the frequencies, get the drones feeding us any data we can get."

Clanking. Metal. Two dark-haired men helping another one past. A dragon shaped like a Vanaheim wolf. Bruce collapsed into a jump seat, and Darren flopped beside him.

Loki raised his head. He couldn't see for a moment, so it took him too long to realize he was looking for Steve to board the plane. There was no one else. The hatch was closing. They lifted off.

 _ **A/N: Not such a long wait this time! Hope you enjoyed this more action-packed chapter! I also have most of the next one written, so I hope to get it updated soon.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thanks for the review! I don**_ _ **'t want to give too much away, so I will just say I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for your continued support!**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Thank you for reading! Feel free to rate and review!**_

 _ **Thanks,**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	35. Ch 35: S Found

There was a sort of crumbling awareness on the edge of Steve's consciousness that something wasn't right. Slowly, he sorted through the sensations he could find without moving. White light behind his closed eyelids. Cold stone against his back and side, the feeling of lethargy that persisted despite the fact that Steve knew he should _wake up right now! Danger!_ The sound of someone else breathing in the silence.

As he cracked open one eye, Steve struggled to grasp the situation. First of all, this was not normal. He knew where he was at all times, unless he was dreaming or having an intense flashback. And this wasn't like those. This was real, and he was in a smooth, concrete room with a metal door, lights behind metal barriers, and Eleanore lying face down on the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

It was really disconcerting to see her like that. Steve had been around Elle enough to know that she slept on her stomach to begin with, then on her back or on her left side. If she was cold— which she had to be, in that thin white tank top and… underwear? Who'd dressed her?— then she curled in on herself to preserve warmth. But this sprawled, lank position only conveyed a lack of awareness and free will. She'd been dumped like a sack of trash, covered in bruises of various shapes, and even some scrapes on her elbows, knees, shins, shoulders, palms, and the soles of her feet. And were those needle marks on her arms?

Steve sat up and noted that he was wearing a black t-shirt and long gray pants. _Sexist_ was the first word that came to mind, and it was said in Elle's annoyed voice.

He made himself move, and progress was slow. "Hey. Elle. Can you hear me?" His voice was strange to his own ears; hoarse and distant, and it echoed off the bare walls and floor.

Elle wasn't responding anyway. Steve knelt next to her and found himself at a loss. _So she_ _'s breathing… good. Doesn't look like any bones are broken. But there are bruises on her neck. She shouldn't move. But she's probably cold…_ He felt her arm. _Okay, really cold. Hypothermia? She_ _'s not turning blue. Why does basic First Aid not cover what to do if you can't call a medic? Or if your medic is the injured person? Okay, I'm spinning out. Get it together, Rogers._ "Elle, you have to wake up."

"Whatthehellhappened?" The question was somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

 _Thank you, God._ "We're captured. Does your neck hurt?"

"Everything hurts, Steve." She sounded about as sarcastic and stony as she did when she was undercaffeinated and tired.

"Do you think your spine's okay? What did they do to you?" Steve went with her normal approach: direct questions to gauge injury and assess the situation.

"What did _I_ do to _them,_ you mean." Elle groaned and moved her hands up to feel along her neck. "Mostly, these bruises are from when I fought back once they got me here."

"Mostly?"

"The guards aren't very nice if you kick them in the nuts."

Steve couldn't bring himself to grin at that answer. "So do you think you're okay to move?"

"I don't really want to sit up." Elle lay her forehead against her hand with a sigh. She looked so tired, and Steve found deep bruises along the side of her face that had been against the floor. He couldn't tell how recently they'd been inflicted because any swelling had been subdued by the cold concrete.

"Are you in a lot of pain? Where does it hurt?" Steve asked

"Well, that's not so bad. But I'm not wearing a bra, and I'm cold and uncomfortable. This guy is like a fucking spy-action-movie director. All about the boobs."

Steve had to smile at that. "You sound normal. Here, I'll give you my shirt." He pulled the scratchy material over his head and handed it over, partially turning away as Elle sat up and put it on. It was actually like a really short dress on her. He debated giving her his pants, too, since he could feel boxers on under them. "Warmer?"

"Yeah, thanks." Elle rubbed her eyes and looked around. "This is a different holding cell."

"Think they moved us?" That made way too much sense. Now two Avengers were captured, and Loki was probably framed or something.

"There isn't a guard out in the hall. There used to be," Eleanore said appraisingly. "Why would they keep us together? With no guard?"

"Might not have a lot of guards left," Steve suggested, recalling the battle. "We took a lot of them out."

"Good." Elle stood and walked around the room once before coming back and kneeling in front of Steve. "How did they get you?"

"I don't remember." That was another disconcerting piece of the puzzle. Why wouldn't he remember getting knocked on the head, or shot up with a drug?

"Anesthetic can cause that." Eleanore answered his questions before he'd asked. She put a hand on his forehead and frowned. "One time when I was younger I had a kidney stone, and I had to get it blasted, and I don't remember much after they wheeled me to the surgery room."

"Good to know," Steve sighed, waiting for the healing that would make him feel normal again. Waiting…

"They drugged me too. I keep forgetting." Elle slid down the adjacent wall with a huff and no silver-white light at her fingertips.

"They took your powers?" Steve asked, now officially disturbed.

"It's not permanent," Elle assured him. "It'll wear—"

The door opened then, and Steve scrambled to his feet, placing himself in front of Eleanore. Even if his vision was blurry and his legs shook, he'd make a good shield. (Where _was_ his shield?)

"It's been quite a hustle, getting you two together," said a familiar voice from the past.

"Rouldkin." Steve felt the name growl through his throat, setting his jaw on edge. His hands formed fists, but he held himself back.

"I'm so pleased to be remembered," Rouldkin said pleasantly. "Unfortunately, Captain, your memories won't help you for long."

Two more guards entered the room, and Rouldkin stood between them. The guards held AK-47s pointed at Eleanore. If not for that, Steve would have attacked.

As it was, he just glowered and tried to make himself look threatening with no shirt on and bare feet. "What the hell do you want?"

"So glad you asked." Rouldkin settled in for a long explanation with a deep breath and a smile. "You see, once you got me fired, I knew exactly what direction to take my career next. Since I was no longer affiliated with SHIELD, I hired myself out to different organizations, learning everything I could about mutants. I knew I wanted to understand you, Miss Engman. Understanding is the best way to get revenge, after all.

"I spent these past weeks learning everything I could about your special X Gene. Really, there wasn't much to learn. However, there is much more to discover. And what better way to experiment than on the very young lady who ended my career? I was just about to retire, you know, with full pension and benefits. I had Captain Rogers to learn about until then, and I do not like being hindered in my pursuits. You really should have gone about the confrontation more discreetly, Miss Engman. If you had simply explained your position, I'm certain we could have come to an understanding. However, you did not, and this is why you are at my mercy.

"Still," Rouldkin continued, "I found other ways to broaden my horizons. So many mutants are outcast from society, you know. Taking one or two from the homeless community doesn't make much of an impression. As you've seen, Miss Engman, I like to test limits."

Steve could tell Rouldkin thought he sounded smart and tough, but he was really just boring. This whole explanation could have taken one sentence: _I wanted revenge on you two for getting me fired._ But the guns were still trained on Eleanore, and it wasn't the right time to act. Steve tried not to shift impatiently as he waited.

"I heard this before, you massive shithead," Elle spat.

But the deranged doctor kept going anyway. "You see, mutants have this unique ability to thwart research on them. Because their powers are located in their— your— DNA, you can't push too hard to get information from them. You have to finesse it, wheedle out their abilities through tests. Extensive tests, sometimes. My first subjects were killed almost immediately, but there were always more. I found colleagues whose techniques were yielding great results, so I worked with them. I honed my tests, gathered information… I prepared. For what? For your demise, Miss Engman. I'm going to gather your secrets until you have nothing left to give, and then you'll go the way of the others."

Steve heard Elle draw in a breath from behind him. He didn't turn to look, but he saw Rouldkin's appreciation of the reaction.

"Yes, _all_ the others are dead now. Thanks to your Avengers, really, but what can you do? At least you've given me the ultimate experiment: Captain Rog—"

The monologue came to and end abruptly. Rouldkin's eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed in a heap with a surprised expression.

The guards' attention was lost, so Steve took the opportunity to tackle one of them and kick the legs of the other. He wrestled one gun away and knocked that guard out with a punch to the temple. The next one fell to another kick.

That done, Steve straightened and stood slowly, looking back at Eleanore, who looked like she was about to puke. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's the drugs." She was calm, honest, businesslike.

Steve understood. This was just another mission now. They had to get out of the prison alive, and they had to contact their friends. He looked down at the guards, then noticed that Rouldkin's head looked… swollen. The doctor wasn't breathing, either. Blood dripped from his ears.

"Is he dead?" Steve asked, already feeling stupid as the question left his lips.

"Yeah," Eleanore said bluntly, nonchalantly, moving forward to wrestle one guard out of his bulletproof vest. "I burst all the blood vessels in his head."

 _Holy shit._ Of course she could do that, Steve realized with a start. She could probably kill anyone and make it look like an accident. _And everyone was so worried that Loki could hurt her_ _…_

He couldn't dwell on it for too long. They needed to get moving. Steve took the other guard's vest and boots, along with all the ammunition he could find. Elle spent that time getting herself some ill-fitting pants, which she cinched at the waist with a belt. At least the pants had pockets. Steve gave her a gun and a full clip, thankful she'd grown up around guns. Not AKs, but still.

"Ready?" he asked, when he thought they were prepared.

Elle didn't answer right away, but her eyes went distant. "There's a few more people coming down the hallway."

Steve heard the footsteps. "Hide behind the door." Elle did as he asked, and Steve retreated until his back touched the wall. If Rouldkin had been after him, the guards wouldn't be as quick to shoot him as they would be an 'expendable' mutant.

Sure enough, three more guards entered the room and hesitated at the sight of Steve holding a gun.

"Hey fellas," Steve greeted them as they took in Rouldkin's body and their undressed coworkers. "Tell me how to get out of here, and I'll let one of you live." That was something Loki would have said. It felt right, in the moment.

One of the guards tensed and prepared to fire. But his arms bent with a _snap_ and he dropped his gun before collapsing lifelessly. The other guard fell a split second later. The one who was, apparently, chosen for questioning had his arms broken as well. Over his moaning cries, Steve could hear Elle puking behind the door. Not much was actually hitting the ground, likely because she hadn't been fed since they caught her.

That thought did away with Steve's mercy. He stepped forward and grabbed the conscious guard by the straps of his vest. "Directions. Now."

"Please don't kill me! I'll tell you anything!" the smaller man cried. He sniffled around some tears and mumbled a few more pleas.

Steve was getting tired of holding him up. "Tell me the way out."

"You take the hallway straight— t-turn left out of this door, and then straight t-to a control room, but-but the lock— you have to undo the locks, and th-then…"

"He's telling a chaos narrative," Eleanore commented, walking around the door and wiping her mouth. "He should show us."

Steve set the guy down gently and then shoved him into the hallway. "Walk. Make one wrong move, and I'll shoot you through the neck."

"Jesus, Steve," Elle muttered, walking out the door behind him.

"Sorry," Steve said loud enough for the trembling, stumbling guard to hear. "You can shoot him if you want."

She didn't grin at the joke, so it wasn't worth it. Steve shook it off and shoved the barrel of the gun into the guard's back. They walked for a moment through a narrow hall that was poorly lit with a fluorescent light every ten feet or so. The cell they'd emerged from was at the very end of the passage with a solid wall, so they could only go to the left. There were no cameras in the hall. Poor security. An emergency base? The walls were concrete, but the ceiling looked like natural rock. It was brown and semi-porous. Steve saw Elle examining it as well. Seeing her hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes also brought her situation back to the forefront of Steve's mind. They needed to get the hell out of here. "Hey," he said to the guard. "How do you communicate?"

"A phone in the— god— in the front office."

"Take us there."

The guard did. Well, he tried. He fainted from pain on the way, but by that time Elle and Steve could hear the other voices and see the greenish lights of a screen. Elle knocked one of the men out. The other begged for his life.

"P-please! Take whatever! Here's the phone— check in at noon and midnight, they said. They said keep things minimal."

"Who do you check in with?" Steve asked.

"A voice. Just a voice, it says 'Confirmed,' and then hangs up. I've only done it once!"

Steve nodded to Elle. "We're good here."

She knocked that guard out, too.

Steve picked up the water bottle from the desk. There was an emergency exit layout laminated to the wall that showed they were very close to the front door of this place.

"You look like Rambo," Elle commented.

"We should get moving," Steve replied. He couldn't hear any movement from the hall ahead. He jerked his chin at the guard. "Lead on."

"I have a few numbers memorized," Elle said, flipping open the phone's cover and extending the antenna.

"Let's get out of here first," Steve decided, noting how poor the signal was on the phone. He glanced at the layout one more time and ushered Eleanore out of the control room. They were in the center of a small complex of tunnels. Their cell had been in the east wing, and the largest exit was in the west wing. Steve headed for that, figuring it stood the least chance of being boarded up.

Elle walked beside him through the dim tunnels, clutching the phone for dear life. Steve had to keep checking she was there after so many days of worry. It was like finding Bucky in that Hydra facility.

The situation was incredibly similar, actually.

Steve's intuition starting worming away in the pit of his stomach. Zola and Schmidt had destroyed the base rather than risking their data being stolen by the Allies. What if Rouldkin had a failsafe in place for the same reason? A daily check-in sounded an awful lot like a failsafe, and missing one could mean the destruction or inspection of this hideout.

"Can you run?" Steve asked Elle.

"Yeah, why?" She looked around, all brittle caution in an instant.

"I just have a bad feeling about this place," Steve explained. "We're almost to the door. Let's get out of here."

Elle complied, starting off at a swift, for her, jog with the pockets of her pants jingling and the phone still carefully cradled in her hands. Steve stayed in front of her, wary of every corner until they finally reached the door. Footprints and handprints in the dust said that someone had been through recently. Steve listened carefully, but he couldn't hear anything beyond a breeze outside.

They emerged into a nightscape of craggy rocks and cliffs with sparse vegetation waving on a breeze. The moon was half-full and very bright, so Steve could make out the small path that led to a shoddy, winding dirt road. They were set in the middle of a small mountain, which was surrounded by smaller mountains as far as the eye could see.

Steve frowned, trying to place the land and coming up empty. It was dry, deserted, with only clumps of plants and an errant, unfamiliar bird call showing any sign of life.

"I think this is Australia," Elle mused breathlessly. The short run had already worn her down.

"Australia?" Steve's frown deepened. "How can you tell?"

"I just have a feeling." She knelt and picked up a rock with one hand. "I used to watch this show about wildlife when I was a kid— _Crocodile Hunter_ — and it was set in Australia. This really looks like that."

Steve had only seen National Geographic pictures of Australia in the past, and he'd barely heard about the country in modern times. He decided to trust Elle as far as that went, figuring she'd been exposed to more information in her youth than he'd seen in the War. He shot a look back at the door, which was set into an alcove of the cliff so it wouldn't be visible from the air. "Either way. Let's get some distance and make the call."

They walked down the steep incline to the flatter road. One all-terrain truck was parked off to the side, pointed down into the valley. Its back end was filled with closed gas canisters, shovels, and a First Aid kit.

"Can we call now?" Elle asked, sounding anxious.

Steve pondered the vehicle. He'd had a bad feeling about the structure, which hadn't been proven right yet. If they took this, then maybe they could make it to a settlement somewhere nearby. But maybe Rouldkin or whoever supplied him had also rigged the equipment with a failsafe. He felt paranoid even considering it, especially since he couldn't see the lights of a town polluting the surrounding sky. "What time does the phone say it is here?"

"Eleven fifteen PM."

So they'd miss the check-in fairly soon. Steve nodded to himself. "Let's find a safe place for surveillance, then we can make the call." An outcropping thirty feet up on another cliff looked promising.

Elle sighed, but she followed him. It took a long while for them to scale the rocks. Steve helped Elle up when he saw her hands shaking, and by the time they reached the summit she was ready to collapse. She sank down onto the pebbled ground and flipped the phone back open.

"Calling Darren in?" Steve asked as she dialed with trembling fingers.

"He never answers his phone," she replied. "I'm calling Tony."

That was… weirdly logical for someone who just got out of three-and-then-some days of whatever imprisonment, experimentation, and torture Dr. Rouldkin had devised. Tony always answered, and if he didn't, Jarvis would find out who was calling and patch them through whatever speaker system happened to be nearby. Jarvis would also track the call and pinpoint their location for extraction if Tony or Elle asked him to.

But this was Eleanore. She'd probably planned her escape from Day One. She'd called Tony from the meadow in the first place.

She was already finished dialing on the rubbery buttons, and was holding the phone to her ear. Muttering, "Jarvis, it's Elle. Record this. Track us. It's Elle. Track this call. Trace us." Over the outdoor noises of wind and random creatures, Steve could hear it ringing once, twice, three times.

" _Who is this?_ " Tony asked. His voice was gruff, without the normal sarcastic edge it usually had. " _Who gave you this number?_ "

"Tony? It's Elle." Steve watched a brilliant smile shine across his friend's face at the familiar voice. "I think we're in Australia. Have Jarvis trace us."

There was a muted clanking, and some not-so-muted cursing from the other end. Lots of familiar voices now, all speaking at once. " _Australia! Son of a_ _— Guys, shut the hell up. I can_ _'t hear— Gearing up now. Jarvis, find them. Steve with you?_ "

"Steve's here," Elle confirmed, scooting closer and holding the phone between their faces. "It's kind of deserty-mountains around us, Tony. Have you traced us yet?"

" _Australia,_ " Tony confirmed, " _Out in the_ _— yes, it_ _'s her, shut the hell up— middle of nowhere, of course. Darren and I are flying ahead — I don't have a suit for you, Rudolph— and the rest of the team will be in the jet._ "

Steve decided to chime in. "Any roads near us, in case we lose this connection?"

" _About twenty-five miles to your west, or twenty miles south,_ " Tony reported. " _You_ _'d follow that north to find civilization. You're in the St. George— Darren, get in your goddamn suit if you want to get going— Range of mountains. The coast is over three hundred kilometers away. Nearest town is… Looks like Fitzroy Crossing. About one hundred kilometers by road, plus the fifteen it would take you to hike straight to that road over rough terrain._ "

Steve started laying out a map in his mind based on what he could see. "We have a truck here. A guard told us that they have a check-in every day at noon and midnight local time. We'll wait to see what happens then, and decide what to do based on that."

"What if whoever's in charge can track us through the phone?" Elle asked.

Steve nodded. "Good point. Tony, we should end this and wait for midnight."

" _Don_ _'t turn the phone off,"_ Tony ordered. " _It got enough battery for_ _… shit. ETA six hours?_ "

"Full battery," Elle confirmed after another glance at the screen.

"Does SHIELD have anyone stationed closer?" Steve added.

" _Sydney. You only have to be there about an hour, then. Keep the phone on, but far away from you until midnight. Check in at 12:15 if nothing happens._ _"_

It was eleven fifty. Steve felt antsy from the phone's proximity now. "Will do, Tony. See you when you get here."

Elle pressed the 'End Call' button with a sigh and handed the phone over. "Where should we put it?"

Steve looked back at the base, which was giving him an even worse feeling, for some reason. "I'll take it back toward there. Then I think we should get further away."

"I feel it too," Elle said with a nod. "Like something's waiting."

That was exactly it. There was a kind of presence crouching, unseen, a silent threat. "Start hiking south," Steve said. "I'll catch up, and we'll find a better place to hide out."

Eleanore complied without a word, scrabbling across the mountainside toward an area with more escarpments.

Steve wasted no time because there wasn't any to lose. He had seven minutes to get the phone away from them and sprint back to Elle. He started back to the base, swinging by his arms down the rock face until he dropped the device near the truck. Then he leapt back up and over until he found Elle cautiously eyeing a tiny cave.

"Seems good," Steve said. "I'll go in first."

Elle put a hand on his arm before he could take the plunge. "It's _Australia_ , Steve." With no more explanation, she extended her other arm, made a fist, and flung it to the side.

A writhing mass of scales sailed out of the cave with a startled hiss. It flew down the cliffside and lay still at the bottom.

"Poisonous?" Steve asked.

"Venomous," Elle corrected him. "Rattlesnake, I think. There's nothing else alive in here, so we can go."

Steve followed her into the narrow opening that was just wide enough for them to walk side by side. It was shallow, only extending about ten feet back. Steve knelt near the entrance while Eleanore took a seat further in and leaned her head back against the wall.

She looked so tired, now. Tired and sad. Steve took the opportunity to observe while she had her eyes closed, and he found a disturbingly familiar weariness that he'd seen in soldiers who'd been battling for months.

But the moment passed. She opened her eyes and met his. "How much longer?"

"About twenty seconds," Steve answered automatically. He'd been counting since he dropped the phone.

Elle crawled to his side and craned her neck to see the base's entrance for herself. They waited in silence.

The phone rang once. Twice.

Then the base exploded.

It started as an ominous rumble that shook through the mountain. Steve had just enough time to pull Elle close before the door of the base blew off and the truck sent flames sky-high. The tremors kept going, and that tiny prison in the side of the mountain crumbled into rubble and dust.

When it was finally over, with only smoke billowing out of the main entrance and around the flaming truck, Steve finally let himself breathe. He relaxed his arms and blinked through the dusty silence.

Elle let go of him, too, and leaned out to survey the scene. She sank to her knees at the mouth of the cave and eyed Steve with a reliving mixture of humor and resignation. "Glad we didn't take the truck."

Steve grinned. "A little rocket power would have gotten us there faster."

She chuckled and grew serious again. "We should wait here for the SHIELD people."

Steve let the normalcy of the moment wash over him. The bruised side of Elle's face was in shadow, so she just looked like a tired, hungry version of her usual confident self geared up on a quick mission.

He felt so relieved to have her back, even if they weren't on their way home quite yet. The dread he'd felt for the past week gradually ebbed, and he smiled to himself. They'd made it out. They were going home. Everything would be okay again.

Of course, Elle's unconscious expression told a different story. Now, her brow was constantly knitted like she was in pain. And she didn't seem relieved at all to have escaped. In fact, she was dreading something.

 _She_ _'s going to have to tell everyone everything,_ his mind reasoned. He remembered the pain of reliving terrible missions through reports. One terrible mission in particular, but the report was really more of a confession to Peggy in a burned-out pub. Steve used to feel that if he held himself away from the problem, somehow it would be better. He still did that, but the woman in front of him often dragged his issues out into the open for resolution.

She also told people plainly when she had a problem. A nightmare, a bad experience with an agent. Elle was brutally honest. Usually, she'd be telling him everything now, informing him, unable to keep the information to herself any longer. Like now, she was moving across the little cave, lifting Steve's arm, and shrugging into his ribs.

Steve relaxed the muscles on that side of his body and let his emotions quiet. This was how Elle handled people she trusted, taking what she needed as she needed it because she knew what she wanted. He'd seen her do the same to Darren and her mother many times.

"Thanks," Elle murmured with a sigh.

Steve tightened his arm. "Anytime."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I must have healed up while we were out."

"Good…" Tension twisted in the air as Elle's shoulders hiked toward her ears. She thumped her head against his chest like he'd seen her do with Darren when she was searching for words. "He put brain wave scanners on my head and killed other people in front of me to see how I'd react."

 _Careful_ , was Steve's instinctive thought. He couldn't react too much, not when she was trusting him like this. "The… the other prisoners? Back at the winery?"

Elle nodded, the movement pulling at his shirt. "They were all mutants. So he, like, experimented on them in front of me. Until they died."

 _Oh, God_ _…_ Three days of that?! How was she even sane?

"That's why I killed him, because that's what he meant. He always told me his plan was to get you, too, and the other people were just like practice. So I had to."

Absolution. She was asking him to understand. "Of course you did," Steve said, squeezing her closer, "I would have done the same thing." Elle had never killed anyone before (at least, not directly) but she knew Steve and Loki had, and she'd never reproached them for it. Sometimes, when she hesitated in the practice ring, Loki would remind her that 'battle begets blood,' but for the most part even the demigod warrior seemed content to leave that portion of Eleanore Engman's innocence intact. "Thank you," Steve added. She'd given up that innocence to protect him.

Another head thump. "I don't feel bad about it. I feel worse about the snake down there. All I can think about is how much I don't want to tell Mom about this."

 _That_ _'s going to be kind of difficult to help with._ But Steve would try. "Do you want me to tell her? I can explain it— I can get off the plane first when we get home."

"No, if I ask her to not ask me about it, she'll listen. She'll just be glad I'm back. Has she been holding up okay? And Loki?"

So three days of torture hadn't really changed Elle on a fundamental level. Steve grinned. "She's been doing alright. June and Alan have been staying at your apartment, so she's… had them." And sometimes the sisterly conflict seemed to bolster Lydia's own bravery, but that was something Steve wouldn't bring up in idle gossip.

"Oh god. June probably drove Mom up the wall. Poor Alan. Poor _you_. Did you have to hear it?" At least Elle was chuckling now.

"Not too much," Steve promised. "I was mostly with the team. We did alright. I think you'll be proud."

"I usually am. How much longer?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Doesn't your butt hurt on this rock?" Elle asked next. She stood stiffly and stretched her arms above her head until her hands hit the low ceiling. Her back popped as she twisted it back and forth slowly.

Steve just shifted his legs around until he was comfortable again. He was anxious for SHIELD to show up and get them away from this place, too. He hoped the Sydney facility had good medical personnel as he watched Elle wince a lot when she moved. She was probably sporting even worse bruises than he'd seen under the skimpy clothes.

That thought went just a bit further and stabbed a cold bladed of fear into his stomach. "Elle. Did they… did they assault you?"

She gave him a look that clearly said, 'duh.' Then she understood his question. "They didn't rape me. At least, not as far as I can tell. They did bathe me while I was unconscious every day, but that's as far as it went. I'll get tested, though, don't worry."

Steve tried not to wrinkle his nose at the thought of Elle being moved around when she wasn't aware of it. He knew how horrible guards could be, both male and female.

Another rock clattered down the cliffside to their south; a product of the explosion settling. But Elle jumped a mile and flattened herself against the rocky wall. Steve even felt the flash of panic until she realized what had happened.

"It's alright," he assured her quickly, poking his head out to look around and make sure that statement was truthful. It was. "It's alright," he said again. "Just the ground settling."

Elle swallowed once and nodded, eyes still wide. She looked outside too, and leaned her shoulder against the wall. "The ground's cooling after the explosion. I wonder how much the rock got heated up. There's still a lot of smoke."

There _was_ still a lot of smoke. Luckily, it was blowing away from them. The truck was still smoldering in a glowing heap of ashy metal. Steve looked, but he couldn't find the phone at all. That would panic the team.

Steve noticed Elle shivering in the cool breeze. It was fairly cold; he guessed around fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit with the wind chill factored in. And she hadn't eaten much yet, so she probably wasn't generating a lot of warmth.

"Here," he offered, stripping off his shirt again. The material was thin, but it would help.

"No, don't do that." Elle walked over and tugged it back down before Steve got it all the way off. She sat beside him again, and this time Steve stretched to the side more so she could leech off his warmth. "There. Good enough?"

"Yeah."

"Your birthday is coming up soon," Elle commented thoughtfully.

Steve blinked. "You know when my birthday is?"

"Yes, Captain America, I do. I swear, it's like you were born for this." Elle chuckled. "What do you want to do for that? Museums again?"

"We don't have to do anything," Steve assured her.

"Will it be sad?" she asked carefully.

"No, not too bad. I just… I never really did much for it." Steve thought back to his last birthday, which he'd spent in battle. Bucky had remembered it, of course, but it kind of got lost in the commotion. And afterward, the American troops had celebrated Independence Day in every pub they could find. And now, he didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

"We don't have to do much," Elle assured him. "Do you even like fireworks now?"

Steve closed his eyes, envisioning the bright bursts of light and the thunderous crackling. The images of merriment were quickly replaced by the flacking and the shells of the War. The shows had probably only gotten louder since the forties. "Not much, no."

"Then we won't go to the farm," she decided with a chuckle. "Once a year, Uncle Cole gets a wild hair and buys a shit ton of fire works from Missouri. They're illegal in Iowa, but it's not enforced as long as you don't make a huge deal out of it. Anyway, he moves all the cars out of the driveway and we light them off."

"Let me guess," Steve said, "you were fire and rescue?"

"Yep. But I also lit a lot of them." She shifted closer. "My grandma called all of us pyromaniacs. What about a picnic?"

Steve tightened his arm around her to give her more warmth. "You know, the farm sounds fine. If it gets too bad, I'll go in the basement, alright?" He wanted Elle to see her family again if possible, and he figured she and Loki would both need a break after all this stress. Assuming they weren't fighting anyone directly on or around the 4th, they could spend a few days in the peaceful countryside.

"It's _loud_ ," Elle warned him. "If we go, I bet Tony will show up with everyone. Which Alan and Zeph would love, but it will be even louder."

"Even better," Steve said. "They wanted to meet the team. Let Natasha kick Alan around a bit."

"He'll be disgruntled. I hope his friends are there from the football team."

Steve let the good moment last, looking again into the darkness. It was nearly two AM here, so if Steve's knowledge of time zones was right, it was two PM back home. If they left around five or six AM once the team got here, they would be getting home at night. As he thought about it, his eyes picked up swiftly moving lights far up in the atmosphere. A moment later, he heard a faint _boom_ as the quinjet decelerated below Mach 1.

"Is that them?" Elle asked, following Steve's gaze.

"I think so," Steve said cautiously. "Let's let them land and identify themselves before we go out." If this was SHIELD, they'd have the rescue cues or some other recognizable saying to draw Steve and Elle out. If it was a trick— which Steve thought highly unlikely, but still— then they would try to hide until the Avengers actually arrived in two hours. He backed into the cave further as the jet drew closer, drawing Elle with him and hugging the southern wall to watch what happened.

The plane touched down about a hundred feet away from the simmering remains of the base on a flatter part of the road. It looked like SHIELD, with the symbol and the pilot in uniform. Helmets and night vision goggles and rifles carefully trained at the ground. Two agents emerged from the ramp slowly, looking around at the wreckage. One talked into his radio too softly for Steve to hear from this distance.

"I think that's them," Elle breathed in his ear.

"Just a little longer," Steve requested. After being captured on a rescue mission and having the base explode on them, he was wary of anything that seemed too good to be true. He also didn't want to get into a firefight with their two guns and weakened bodies against a fully-equipped plane.

"Captain Rogers?" the previously silent agent called cautiously. "Agent Engman? Can you hear us?"

"Barely," Elle complained under her breath. She was being surprisingly patient, kneeling on the ground behind Steve and stretching over his back to watch along with him.

"Wait for a signal," Steve reminded her to explain his hesitation.

The agents continued calling for them periodically, searching the rubble pile, reporting back into their radios every so often. They gingerly stepped around the truck, the one aiming their night vision goggles into the darkness while the other backed them up with no night vision. The pilot stayed in the cockpit, a figure glimpsed through movement.

Steve was growing impatient; didn't they know to give them one of the four special code words for rescue parties? Granted, the words were changed every so often at random, but still every member of SHIELD should know them easily.

"Horseback, cayenne, salmon, degree," Elle whispered to herself. Those were the most recent words, changed only days before she'd been taken. Clint had drilled the protocol into their heads one day when he'd 'kidnapped' them for some training. Loki had been the most impatient with it, Steve the least.

The agents were still shouting just their names, though, now and then with instructions to move if they could hear the agents.

"They think we're in the rubble," he said. It wasn't enough to make him reveal their location, though. They could wait a couple more hours for sure safety if they needed to.

"Well they need to get their heads out of their asses and say the words," Elle replied in a sullen mutter.

The confusion continued for five more minutes. The agents started poking at the outside edges of the rubble, though they didn't move anything. They took turns pacing the flat parking surface. They knocked loudly on the one metal door still on its hinge. The other one was completely gone, probably blown out into the valley.

"What if they're in contact with ours?" Elle asked suddenly.

Steve knew what she was thinking: _What if they think we_ _'re dead now?_ "They'll still show up," he promised her.

One of the agents raised a hand to his ear and turned back to the plane, now speaking at a normal volume. Steve could barely make out the words, "… no response… backup… rescue… equipment… excavation…" A pause, and then, "Survival unlikely, sir."

Steve bit his tongue. This was torture to their team now. He felt Elle shift, her hand squeezing his arm, her frustration burning his chest. "I know," he offered as a pitiful consolation. "We have to wait, though."

"I _know_ ," she sighed. "Sorry. I know."

Steve watched the agents. One continued their circling of the debris, a figure-eight from the entrance and around the truck's pieces. The other one was heading back toward the jet still with slow steps, clearly listening to something on his radio.

Suddenly, the plane's PA system crackled to life. " _Cayenne, degree, salmon, horseback, damn you incompetent mortals_."

Elle shot to her feet at the first words. "That's Loki!" she shouted, sending an accompanying wave of euphoria over Steve and probably the surrounding ten meters as well.

It was Loki for sure, damning the agents for not using the words. Steve stayed right beside Elle as she darted out of the cave. He joined her, yelling, "Over here! Up here!"

The agents heard them, and the one without night vision goggles shone a flashlight up at them. "Captain Rogers? Agent Engman?"

"Yes!" Elle shouted at them. She turned back to Steve, bouncing on her toes. "Let's _go_ , Steve."

He smiled. "I'll climb down first." He started scaling the cliff side for the third time that night, making sure Elle didn't lose her footing.

They made good time; going down was way easier than climbing up. In fifteen minutes, they were standing near the smoking husk of the truck while the agents confirmed over and over again on their comms that yes, Steve and Eleanore were right there with them. Yes, alive. Visibly uninjured.

"Are there more comms for us on the plane?" Elle asked the taller man who'd been wearing the night vision goggles.

"Yes ma'am," the man said amiably. "Let's get you there now. Your teammates are all talking at once on here." He fell back a step and nodded at Steve. "I'm Agent Grant Ward. It's an honor, Captain."

Steve just nodded back seriously. He usually had no idea how to respond to the 'honor' thing very well. "Thanks for coming to get us."

"Easiest run I've been on in a while," Ward said conversationally as they reached the plane. "Thought you were in the rubble, though, once we saw the smoke. Hell of a bomb."

"Those night-vision goggles," Elle said, pointing to the equipment hanging from Ward's hand. "Thermal?"

"They have a thermal setting, yeah." The agent fiddled with the controls before handing them over.

"Do you have another pair for Steve— Captain Rogers?" Elle asked.

Steve accepted the goggles handed to him a moment later. He braced his eyes for the onslaught of… _Holy cow._

The slime glowed, flowed on and around everything. It was most concentrated on the remains of the prison. It oozed out of the rocks like puss from an infected wound. Strangely, it crawled up Agent Ward's legs but lapped away from Steve and Elle like they were water and it was oil.

"We need to collect samples," Elle said wearily. "How do you take pictures with these things? And video? Is it recording already?"

The other agent, an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair spoke up. "Uh, we're supposed to get you two back to the base for medical evaluation."

Steve took off the goggles. "Agent Engman is right; our team needs to see this."

"We need airtight containers and rubber gloves. Basic forensics," Elle continued. "Quicker we're done, the quicker you can drop us at the base. Oh, and I need the goggles camera to feed live to our team. And we need comms. Maybe some HazMat suits for you two, if you're going to help. Masks to prevent smoke inhalation."

Steve silently backed her up with the look that Tony claimed moved mountains.

Agent Ward gave in first. "You get the forensics, Dawson," he said. "I'll get the comms."

 _ **A/N: If you haven**_ _ **'t read my (much older) precursor to this story, "Learning The Ropes," then you probably don't know who Dr. Rouldkin is. The good news is that you only have to go through a few chapters to find him if you feel like going all the way back there to catch up.**_

 _ **To answer some questions that may arise: Yes, I have thought about going back to improve that story with some edits, but I have decided to leave it as it is so I have an honest record of my journey as a writer. My style has changed a lot over the years, and it**_ _ **'s documented best and most chronologically on this site. That said, I understand if you cringe at my old writing. I definitely share your pain.**_

 _ **Also, the new**_ _ **"x - x - x - x - x" formatting didn't apply to this chapter because it was contiguous. I do plan on still using it in further chapters.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Sorry/not sorry for the cliffhanger! ;) Here is a**_ _ **'frequent' update! Enjoy!**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!**_


	36. Ch 36 L: Homecoming

"We don't have tea," Bruce explained, proffering a steaming cup of coffee.

Loki took it anyway, slamming the beverage back before it could even burn him. "Thank you, Doctor Banner."

Bruce took the seat next to him. "Are you more professional on SHIELD missions or something? Should I call you… Mr. Loki?"

"Eleanore's assigned me the surname 'Eldrsen' while I'm here, if you need something like that. But no, I… I just reverted. Bruce."

"That's alright. I guess I got the PhD's for nothing if no one uses the title."

"Four hours," Clint reported from the cockpit.

" _Two for us, suckers!_ " Tony crowed from the speakers.

"We can turn them down if you want a nap or something," Bruce offered.

Loki leaned his head back. "I prefer the updates."

" _Can you see what I_ _'m seeing?_ " asked Eleanore's voice.

The screens around the plane lit up. Loki grabbed an unused tablet so hard the glass cracked under his thumb. "Eleanore?"

"What are we supposed to be seeing?" Clint asked, his raised voice floating back from the cockpit.

" _Magic, right?_ " Eleanore asked. " _All we have are these thermal night-vision goggles, but it looks right. And Loki, look._ " The camera shifted downward, dizzying, until it came to rest on cooler-looking feet. " _It_ _'s not getting us. What kind of samples should we get?_ "

"You should get _out_ of there," Loki ground between his teeth.

Banner crossed his arms, looking over Loki's shoulder. "Eleanore, what's your actual status? Is Steve still conscious?"

The screen showed Steve's outline and Tony's voice muttered over the comms about a 'jawline of righteousness'. " _Yeah, he_ _'s right here. We weren't near this, anyway._ "

" _I_ _'m alright,"_ Steve concurred.

" _What kind of samples?_ " Eleanore pressed them.

" _Princess_ ," Tony said, " _this is_ me _saying this. Go to a hospital and leave the science for later._ "

" _I_ _'m actually going for a WWTD_ ," Eleanore retorted.

"That's 'What Would Tony Do?'" Bruce clarified. "It's this play on a religious thing— nevermind."

" _I_ _'m just going to start putting rocks in tupperware,_ " Eleanore decided. The camera showed her doing just that, going for the 'hottest' pieces of rubble she could find.

The screen divided to show Steve's view as well. He went for pieces of softer material, tiny bits of technology. _"I found the phone. What should I look for here?_ "

"Green," Bruce said. "Motherboard, chips, anything."

" _The calls from that phone routed to a burner that_ _'s already been deactivated_ ," Darren finally chimed in.

"Wait," Loki said. "Steve, move back two steps."

Steve did, and his sightline found Eleanore. Behind her flared an agent, a human, with insidious magic worming up his body.

" _That_ _'s enough samples,_ " Steve decided. He put his arm behind Eleanore's back and gathered the other agent in the same way.

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

Once the SHIELD plane was in the air, Loki simply listened as Tony, Bruce, Clint, Natasha, and Darren hounded Steve and Eleanore for information. Darren stuck with caring-but-repetitive questions after their well-being. Bruce was more specific, so Eleanore and Steve took each other's temperature, pulse rate, blood sugar, and filled three vacutainers each with their blood for future testing. Tony asked about the technology they'd faced and seemed disappointed with the answers he got. He pressed further, asking about the labs they'd found.

" _We_ _'ll talk about that in the debrief_ ," Steve said firmly. " _We_ _'re landing, here. We'll give you updates after they check us in._ "

The updates consisted of Steve's quiet words every fifteen minutes until the Starks arrived. Then there was staticky jubilation, and then sparse words from Tony. Darren paid them absolutely no mind from the moment he left his suit. Then Steve joined the comms, as he had on the plane ride to Sydney, and his words— and the words he left unsaid— weighed them to the ground.

" _We_ _'re alright. Cleared medically already. They're testing our blood, but it looks like no microbots this time._ "

But he didn't say how they had escaped that explosion, and he didn't invite Eleanore to the conversation. Loki had heard her twice in the background, directing someone on how best to store a vacutainer full of her blood, then again insisting she would _not_ deal with an IV right now, she'd drink water, end of story.

" _I don_ _'t know,_ " Tony said aside when another doctor came to distract their prodigal teammates. " _They look alright. I_ _'ve got every sensor on both suits pointed at them. I think we're in for a shit debrief, if I_ have to _be candid. But I don_ _'t know._ "

Loki knew. As soon as the elevator doors opened and he caught sight of Eleanore and Steve and the guarded way they watched everyone around them, he knew. Steve had already carried this burden before Loki ever met him. It was new to the mutant woman's shoulders.

Killing.

It was part of life on Asgard. Mostly, when Loki was young, killing animals for sport. Then other people when Thor went off to battle because who protected the protector?

"Holy shit," was Clint's comment.

And it was astute. Steve was cleaned up, hair wet, but he looked ready to throw anyone who moved even slightly wrong through a wall. He stayed on Eleanore's left side because Darren was guarding her right and Tony kept getting in the way of the medical personnel who tried to approach from the front.

"Are you alright?" she asked Loki when he got close enough.

Loki blinked at her. "Yes."

"Same," she said. "Can we do that thing where we ignore the immediacy of an issue and act like everything is normal?"

"Yes."

So that was what they did. Clint and Romanov talked their way around the other SHIELD agents with a mixture of authority and promises they'd watch 'the subjects'. Bruce began speaking in medical jargon, which glazed over the eyes of the non-doctors in black tactical gear. They all ushered Steve and Eleanore onto the plane.

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

"You alright?" Steve asked, seating himself next to Loki in the middle of the cabin.

Loki shook his head, looked over to Eleanore, who was asleep with her head on Darren's shoulder. "That question's been posed to me already."

"I know. Still." He pointed to the container of rock in Loki's hand. "Anything weird about that?"

"I think my definition of 'weird' has expanded in my time on this planet."

"Same here, but since I woke up in this century."

Loki gave him the container, watching with satisfaction as the magic retreated to the other side to get away from _his_ protective spell. "Nothing any more 'weird' about that. The winery was the magician's source of transportation before it was the lab facility."

Steve's jaw squared. "Everyone made it out?"

"Everyone who was alive when the explosion happened, yes."

"Any data recovered?"

"Nothing. The computer systems were powdered." Annoyingly, irretrievably obliterated. When Loki's head had finally cleared, he'd gone back to the scene with Clint at his side. They'd sifted alongside Stark drones and SHIELD agents. Metal-mineral dust and sickening power, nothing more. "I assume you found the same, since your prison exploded."

"We know who took us," Steve supplied, lowering his voice. "This mutual enemy Elle and I had, from before you got here. He was working with the magician."

"Ah." Loki nodded his approval. "'Was,' and 'had'. You did what needed to be done."

Steve's jaw locked. He glanced at Eleanore, cementing Loki's suspicion.

"You're a terrible liar, Captain. Even when you're silent."

"She doesn't want to talk about it yet," the Captain said. "She can have some time."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Time was something they all had on that flight back to the Washington D.C. Eleanore slept for three of the six hours and spent the next one talking to Bruce and Tony about the results from the blood tests that were coming in from the SHIELD testers in Australia.

Loki watched from a distance. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were frustratingly relaxed in this stupid leather seat. He bit his tongue to stay awake and spoke to Clint and Steve on and off whenever they felt like interacting, which was annoyingly often.

The last two hours of the flight took them through a quick dawn into a new day. They landed at the Triskelion at six thirty AM.

Alan was the loudest. "Elle!"

But he was by no means the most vocal. June rose above and beyond. " _Oh_ my god, are you— you look so sick! What did they do to you?!"

"Not now," Lydia said. She silently gathered Eleanore into her arms.

Loki kept the same distance the rest of the team did, barring Darren. The younger Stark stayed close until Eleanore reached out for his hand again a minute of so into the hug. This lasted a few minutes more until Agent Hill and Director Fury approached from the roof's door.

"Debrief?" Eleanore asked them.

"When you're ready," Agent Hill said.

Eleanore nodded, her lips tightening in a false smile. "Now's good. See you at home, Mom?"

Everyone gathered around the Captain, who drew himself up into the leader he was supposed to be.

"It wasn't good," he began. "It was Dr. Rouldkin. He took Elle because he was experimenting on mutants anyway, and he wanted revenge. She had to kill him so we could escape. I don't think she wants to talk about that much."

Lydia took the news calmly. A nod, a pained expression, and then she was placid.

Tony spat fire. "What do you mean, he was experimenting on mutants 'anyway'? He tested her? Was she some kind of lab rat to him?"

"Dad," Darren said. "Think about it. Mutants."

"Waterworks— oh." Tony blanched.

Alan's fists clenched. "How could he test her feelings thing?"

"I imagine they'll cover that in the debrief," Loki said. His chest constricted, forcing the words out. At least his voice sounded much lighter than he felt.

"Yeah," Steve confirmed when Tony opened his mouth. "Yeah, I… I don't want to tell her whole story for her. But I think that's what she wanted me to tell all of you. Or maybe just you, Lydia."

Lydia nodded once more. Heaved a deep breath. "We'll be at the apartment when she gets home, then. See you in a couple of hours."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

For some reason, Loki had not thought much past bringing Steve and Eleanore home. Perhaps his exhaustion had combined with urgency and fear for his own life to produce such short-sightedness. He regretted that now. He'd regretted it for hours since arriving back at the apartment with his mortals.

"Are you sure you don't want more potatoes?" June asked.

"I'm good," Eleanore promised from the island stool.

"You sure? You know the doctor said to eat plenty."

"She ate a plate, Mom," Alan said from the opposite stool.

"And I'm kind of tired," Eleanore added.

Darren rubbed her shoulder. "I'll get you some water?"

Eleanore refilled her glass. "I got it, but thanks."

"June, you and Alan probably want to get home," Lydia suggested. She ushered them out over smaller protests and returned alone. She and Eleanore cleaned the kitchen in comfortable silence.

The silence was less comfortable once Lydia was gone.

Steve sat on the couch. Eleanore and Darren slouched in Eleanore's chair with Charlie curled between them. Loki maintained his distance, placing himself on a stool with the island counter in front of him as some kind of barrier.

"I didn't think this far ahead," Eleanore commented.

"What do you mean?" Darren asked.

"It's like… kinda like after my grandparents died both times. After the funeral, when everyone went home. It's like that. I guess I do know what to do," Eleanore amended. "It's just weird. You guys are acting weird. So am I. I think I'm going to take a shower."

Darren looked like he wanted to follow her into the bathroom. He sat back in the chair, almost as lonely and forlorn as he had been these past days.

"It'll be alright," Steve assured him.

"I'm going to stay here tonight," Darren said. He looked at Loki. "Maybe for the foreseeable future."

Loki nodded. "That will also be alright."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

'Alright' turned out to be 'average' once the young lovers were asleep behind the closed door.

Loki didn't sleep that night, though he wanted to. Eleanore had been right; this all felt incredibly strange. Things once ordered had been disordered. Now they looked out of place, rearranged, though they were back where they had always been.

At least tea tasted the same, Loki mused at four in the morning when he finally gave up on his bed. He hadn't had this tea in days. Its spice wound up into his nostrils. The slight sweetness warmed him; a reminder he also hadn't had a truly warm bite of food in days as well.

"That smells good," Eleanore said from the doorway of her room.

Loki set the mug down. "Did you master silencing magic in your absence?"

"No, Darren puts a spell on my room when he stays. You mind if I… have coffee with you?"

"It's your kitchen." Loki watched her place the grounds, pour the water. "You can't sleep?"

"Jet lag or something," Eleanore said. "You can sleep if you want. I'll stay up. You look exhausted."

"So do you."

"I bet." She sat at the counter across from him. Dawn wasn't even beginning to break, so the room was only illuminated by the tiny light plugged next to the sink. "So those buildings are probably a bust now, huh?"

"Yes, by now." Loki sipped his tea. He felt like she was leading up to something.

"What about where I was? That basement maze thing?"

"It's gone. Well, collapsed. The Hulk also made mincemeat of the rubble. The magic indicates that it was their base of operations."

"How did it collapse?" Eleanore asked.

"The transport ruined its stability. Some of it is still upright," Loki amended. "That is how Natasha and the others escaped. The front portion didn't cave in until the Hulk started bashing. I should not have underestimated this magician. We should have searched outside the city."

"Everyone looked okay. Were they okay?"

"If you mean the Avengers, then yes. I healed rather quickly from the rubble, and no one else was caught that deep."

Eleanore's brows drew together. "You got buried?"

"Not for long," Loki lied, because he had no idea how long it had actually been. "The Hulk pulled me out foot-first. Once he helped determine you were not also entombed, we abandoned the scene."

"Is your foot okay?"

"Yes."

Eleanore studied the whorls of creamer in her mug. "Did you see the labs?"

"Yes."

"Did Steve tell you?"

"He told us you were in the labs." The truth might get him farther here.

"Did he tell you about the other mutants?" Eleanore clarified. "I mean, do you know how many bodies they found? Or… I can identify them, probably. I knew their names."

 _What did you actually face, child?_ Loki forced himself to breathe normally again. "Two," he said. "Two that Romanov and I found. Clint and Natasha freed the rest we came across."

"They got out? They're alive?" Eleanore asked. "Alive, alive? Like, home with their families?"

"I… suspect so," Loki said. "I didn't keep track of them. You could ask Clint."

"But you saw them, for sure. For sure? Who was it? Like, what did they look like?"

Loki leaned away from her enthusiasm. "They were alive, Eleanore. In the plane with us." He wasn't going to tell her that he had real trouble recalling their features specifically because the lights had been far too bright and every lurch of the plane made him want to vomit.

Eleanore sat back. Her mouth crumpled strangely, and she covered it with her free hand.

Loki was most disturbed because he couldn't feel her reaction, so he had no idea what to expect next. And he didn't like dealing with emotional women. Darren could be her support; why hadn't he told her about the importantly-alive-alive-home-with-their-families-for-sure mutants?

"Rouldkin said he killed them," Eleanore explained from behind her hand. "That was what made it so easy to— Oh my god. But I don't even feel bad. But I killed him. But I don't regret it. But they're alive."

"And you're alive because you killed him," Loki said. "A monster should not exist." _And you shouldn_ _'t be near more than one at a time._

"I was angry, though. If he hadn't said that, I don't know if I could have done it. Because of the drugs," she explained. "I couldn't do anything. But he made me so mad when he said the rest of them were gone, and I got this rage, and I found the blood vessels in his head and burst them."

"Efficient," Loki complimented, cataloging once again how deceptively dangerous this woman was.

"He said he was going to do the same thing to Steve," Eleanore added.

"I'm certain he was telling the truth about that."

"He was. He did it before. He was a piece of shit. I don't even feel bad speaking ill of the dead. I got him fired. Those bodies you found are because I made him angry."

Loki actually chuckled at her melancholy. "It's fairly safe to speak ill of the dead, you know. Especially corpses who made such horrible choices. None of which you forced them into."

"I do sound kind of dramatic," Eleanore agreed. "You should go to sleep. I'll stay up, alright? A couple of hours?"

Loki thought about it. His exhaustion inclined him to agree. The apartment was safe. "You'll stay within these walls?"

"Yeah. I like these walls."

"Then I'll take you up on your kind offer." Loki sent his mug to the sink and walked around her to his bedroom door. He closed it, tore down its sound barrier, and collapsed onto the bed.

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

It was a dreary, drizzle of a day when Loki opened his eyes. It was also nearly noon. His bed smelled like his own slack-jawed drool and Alan's spicy soap that sat in it's "Hair-And-Body-All-In-One" glory in the shower. He could hear Eleanore and Darren in the next room.

" _I don_ _'t want to wait and rest, I want to get back to work._ "

" _Orders are orders, Dear. Ace the psych eval in a couple of days. I_ _'ll stay with you._ "

" _I_ _'d rather you work on finding this sonofabitch, Darren. We can't all be out of commission just because I got blasted from the past._ "

" _I_ _'m tired, too. It would be nice to just be around you._ "

" _You_ _'re fine, you got like ten hours of sleep. Go get dressed."_

Darren grumbled, but his footsteps faded back into Eleanore's bedroom.

Loki stayed where he was, perfectly still, listening while Eleanore scraped some sort of utensil against something and spoke nonsense words to Charlie.

She started just repeating his name and rhyming increasingly improbable words with it. " _Barley, Farley, Marley, Carly, Harley, Party, Farty, Barty, Bard, Farb, Blarb._ " The cat responded with trills.

Darren returned, and Loki also heard the sound of a light kiss. " _Bye, Char Char. And bye, love you. Let me know if you need anything. I_ _'ll pick up supper?_ "

" _Thanks. Ow, my foot keeps cramping up._ "

" _Put a banana in your ear,_ " Darren suggested in a voice that sounded like his nose no longer existed. He followed up with, " _A boodada id by ear?_ "

Eleanore actually squeaked a laugh. " _Oh my god, there might be a new trend of millennial Dad Jokes about to surface. I should see if Kelly still wants to talk to me, so we can do a study._ "

" _Good idea._ " Another kiss-peck sound, and the hall door closed.

Loki waited until he was certain the absent-minded younger Stark wouldn't return for something he forgot to start another argument. Then he rose, magicked clean clothes onto his body, and emerged. "I see a couple of hours has different meaning for you."

"But you feel better," Eleanore pointed out around a spoon in her mouth. An orange bowl sat in front of her filled with some kind of cream.

"What is that?" Loki asked.

"Frosting. For lunch. Mom made it and left it in the fridge. Want some?"

"No, thank you." Loki sat down across from her; a reversal of their positions from earlier that morning. He summoned a mug, water, and a teabag to steam away in front of him. "So, an evaluation for you?"

"Psychological one. For me and Steve. But I don't know what they would do if we failed. I don't think they've given Steve a real test since he woke up."

"Mm. You are the evaluator, in his case."

Eleanore shrugged. "I don't even have a psych degree. Oh, hey, do you have those posters?"

It took him a moment, but Loki remembered what they'd both forgotten. He pulled specifically until two tubes sat in his hands. "I should have given these to your relatives."

"Not both of them." She took the one with " _Church_ " in the title. "That 'fields' one is yours. Happy late birthday? I can help you hang it up if you want."

Loki sighed through his nose. "Is your brain filled with nothing but gifts? You _and_ your mother."

Eleanore laughed to herself. "If you don't like presents, then you are _not_ ready to hear about Christmas."

"Gifts have their place. Usually, they are reserved for people who don't stand idly by while you're abducted."

"I don't think walking home from the gym counts as standing idly by." She leaned forward. "I know it was bad. Steve said the team did okay, but how are you?"

"Altogether, I believe I fared better than your car," was Loki's first measure to distance himself. This was _ridiculous._ "How is the Captain? I'm sure you're monitoring him closely."

"Yeah. I'm the evaluator. He's okay, I think. We got out of there— oh, did you see the magic samples?"

"Yes." And those were troubling enough. "Did they try to put any workings on you?"

"Not that I remember," Eleanore answered. "They used human stuff. Advanced human stuff, like I don't think it will pass that medical board certification or whatever for five more years, but I didn't see anything super weird about it."

"Yes, you _would_ say that about a human experimenting on you."

"Well it made a gross kind of sense. If you accept that someone is a crazy piece of… what's the grossest animal you've ever seen?"

Loki considered that. "In terms of flesh, the giant slugs of the swamps of Niflheim."

"I was hoping for in terms of feces."

" _I_ was hoping you wouldn't ask me specifically about feces," Loki chuckled. "But alright, are you looking for smell or texture?"

"Best of both worlds?"

"Mm… Niflheim again. The plains, which don't much differ from the swamps. There's something called a Coulen, which only… vacates its bowels once per Niflheim year. And they usually share the same cycle, so if you choose the wrong day to visit the Plains of Filhem, you will be mired."

Eleanore was giggling so much she dropped the spoon into the frosting. "I don't think I want to go there at all."

"Oh, that's a shame. Your tour of the realms will be incomplete."

"Three out of nine isn't too bad for a human. Did you do a tour? Like, school field trips?"

"Probably something like that."

Eleanore's phone buzzed on the counter. Maria Hill's name popped up with no photo. Eleanore picked the device up and held it to her ear. "Hello?"

" _How quickly can you be on a quinjet?_ _"_

"Uh…" Eleanore looked at Loki. "Like ten minutes?"

" _I'm sending the coordinates now._ "

"What are we facing?" Loki demanded.

"What's up?" Eleanore paraphrased.

" _It's not a combat mission. No uniforms necessary. You're headed for a SHIELD facility in Canada._ "

"Was there an attack or something?" Eleanore pressed.

" _No, it's identification and research. We have the modified spectrometers ready. Agent Simmons will meet you there._ " The line clicked and went silent.

"She must be in a hurry," Eleanore observed.

Loki nodded. "That, or she has little time for you."

"Maybe both." Eleanore hopped off the stool to walk into her room.

Xx

The flight was short enough, just under two hours. Loki kept track of where they were and where they needed to transport in case of emergency, even though the navigation on the jet was set to secrecy.

They landed to a chill wind and sunshine amid tall pines at the top of a cliff. Great mountains stretched in front of them, covered in the first green if spring. A tiny structure and a tinier woman stood waiting just behind the plane.

"Agent Simmons?" Eleanore greeted her.

The young woman's smile was bright. "Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure, Agent Engman, Captain Rogers, Agent Eldrsen. Shall we?"

They followed her into the little house, which turned out to be a glass-backed elevator that took them into the ground.

Loki noticed how Steve and Eleanore eyed the rock whizzing by. How they moved closer together, away from Agent Simmons, and into Loki's personal space. He placed stronger protection spells over them, recalling the dust coating his lungs at the last underground facility they'd all been in together.

"Just through here," Agent Simmons directed them.

Steve went first and froze on the threshold. Eleanore bumped into his back. Loki did not complete the idiot sandwich, but he understood the foremost buffoon's motivation directly.

"What?" Eleanore asked them both.

Loki said nothing. She wasn't tall enough to see the bodies laid out on the tables in the white room beyond.

"What do you need us for?" Steve asked.

"Really, we need Agent Engman," Agent Simmons said. "Agent Eldrsen, we would appreciate any insights you can offer as well."

"Steve, just…" Eleanore lifted the Captain's arm, but stopped in an awkward half-embrace at his side. Her knuckles whitened on Steve's wrist.

Loki's stomach dropped without his approval. He felt the blood leaving his face, his hands. Unbidden, he pictured a Craxl who'd shared his cell on the asteroid. One morning alive and clicking and annoying, dead and oozing purple the next.

"Sorry," said Agent Simmons, "I don't always remember to warn people about cadavers. Do you need to sit down, Agent Engman?"

Eleanore let go of Steve. She rushed past Loki, down the hall and into a doorway marked with the symbol for a women's restroom. Retching coughs grew louder and softer with each swing of the door.

The splattering that accompanied it told Loki she hadn't reached a toilet in time.

"Oh, my…" Agent Simmons murmured. "It's not usually so extreme."

"What did you expect?!" Steve growled. "You shove her into a— nevermind." He clenched his fists and marched into the restroom.

Loki let him take care of that mess. Now that Eleanore had taken her shudder-inducing nausea elsewhere, he could focus on the bodies. They all had magic eeking off them in tendrils.

"Where did you find these?" he asked.

Agent Simmons gathered herself. "A bit south of here just outside a village. Well. What we found was a crushed-looking chunk of metal that had all our sensors going crazy. The cadavers were inside."

"Jemma, you about done— oh." A curly-haired man nearly ran into Loki in the doorway. His words stuttered as his eyes traveled up from the tablet in his hands. "Sorry. S-sorry. You're. Yes. Right. Carry on— well, _I'll_ carry on. Thank you. Sorry." He scurried down the hall again.

"So now you've met Agent Fitz," Simmons observed with a pitying shake of her head.

Loki kept his opinion of the pathetic boy to himself. "When did you find these?"

"We found the metal a couple of days ago, and we discovered the bodies inside about an hour ago, once we got permission to laser our way in. We called you in originally, but now we'd like Agent Engman to see if she can identify any of them as possible prisoners of Dr. Rouldkin. We think the metal was some kind of preservation device, because these liver temps were nearly identical to what we would have expected from time of death."

 _Wrong._ "Interesting."

The bathroom door swung open. Steve sprinted back to the elevator.

"Yes," Agent Simmons continued, "we think so. Have you seen anything like this before?"

"No. I have not. Excuse me." Loki braved the hall and the swinging door.

Eleanore was scrubbing her face with paper towels. She looked at him in the mirror's reflection. "I'll be out in a minute."

Loki took in the shaking, the burst blood vessels under her eyes. "You have time."

"Steve went to get my go-bag. For a toothbrush. I smell, don't come over here."

"I could smell you from the hallway." It was easy to disobey. Easy to follow his instincts and distance himself with words while he drew closer.

"I don't know why this happened," Eleanore said. "Pathetic mortal stuff?"

"Pathetic mortal stuff," Loki agreed. He made sure she could see the accompanying grin.

She wiped at the makeup under her eyes. "I can't talk through it right now."

"That's alright."

"Does it smell like a morgue in here to you?"

Loki added a neutralizing spell in front of her nose and his. "Now it does to neither of us."

Steve rushed back in the door, toting the black duffel bag. Eleanore rooted through it and started attacking her teeth with the mint paste and plastic bristles.

"I'm good," she decided after her tenth spit of the tiny bottle of Listerine.

"You sure?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. You okay?"

"Me? Yeah."

They both looked at Loki. He nodded. "Yes."

Xx

"Petr Jovanovich. Darla Zimmerman. Fred Wells. Carey Beyn."

Loki memorized those names. They stayed linked to the flatness of Eleanore's expression in his mind.

"Fred's skin is kind of like a frog's," Eleanore explained to Agent Simmons, who wrote furiously on a lined pad. "He couldn't last more than an hour without, like, a spritz or shower or something."

"Why is his arm broken?" Simmons asked.

"They were testing his bones."

She went on to detail about the tests she'd seen. Clinical detail.

"They tried to re-hydrate his skin after his heart stopped, but they couldn't."

"Carey lasted a few hours, I think. She had hair that could change color at will. So, they tested her for other powers, and that's why she's partly bald. It wasn't related to mood. Once she changed it to red, it would stay red. Or blue. Whatever."

"Darla is a lot older than she looks. Was. Well, I guess still is. One hundred and ten in July. She aged, but very slowly. So, everything here is because they took samples, like this off her arm. They thought she might regenerate at first, but she healed at a normal rate. But she was one hundred and nine, and her heart gave out under the stress."

By this time, Eleanore was going green again. She swallowed hard and spoke more quickly. "Petyr was twelve. He didn't speak any English, so I don't know a lot more. He had a healing factor. That's what they called it. Not as fast as Steve, but pretty quick. Like, this scar? It was a serrated blade that tore his skin. Two hours. And his blood volume also rose, so they tested him a lot. He died when they euthanized him. They thought he might neutralize it, but he didn't."

Next to Loki, on the edge of the room, Steve had been winding tighter with every word. When Eleanore was done, and when Agent Simmons' questions petered out, he uncrossed his arms. "That all you needed?"

Agent Simmons now looked sick. "Yes."

"Loki?" Eleanore said. "You see something?"

"I'd like to see the metal shell," Loki replied. Anything to get out of this room. The chemicals sat heavy on his skin. He cleansed himself and his team and removed the scent-shielding spell from his own person when they finally left the lab.

Of course, their destination was another lab. This one had dark gray walls of concrete with hanging fluorescent lights and Agent Fitz tutting about.

"Ah," said the nervous little man with the heavy accent. "Here for the— this thing."

"Yes," Loki replied. He explained a bit for Eleanore and Steve's benefit. "This thing. From which you retrieved the bodies."

Eleanore made to walk past him, reaching out to touch the smooth, black wall of the crumpled container.

Loki put one hand on her shoulder, imparting the ability to see the magic pulsating from the thing. "Stay back," he said quietly.

"Stay back?" Agent Fitz asked. "Stay back for what? From where? Why?"

"Because Loki can see more than we can," Steve told him.

"More of what, exactly?" Simmons asked.

"Magic," Eleanore said.

Loki pressed a bit to guide her behind him where Steve stood. This was familiar by now: the waiting power attached to nothing and everything. He waited for the two SHIELD agents to follow his instructions, then called up more power to reach the mess.

This time, when the container winked and the air exploded, he was ready.

"Loki?!" Eleanore called in the newly shattered darkness. Steve echoed her.

"I knew it was a trap this time," Loki told them. He called up a light for the hand whose arm Eleanore wasn't groping. He could see she had a death grip on Steve again, too. "No harm done," he said.

"No harm— the _hell_?!" Fitz shouted. "You bloody ruined my lab!"

"No we didn't," Eleanore said.

"You can't very well say it's _not_ ruined, can you?"

Loki smirked at this suddenly courageous boy. "Darren Stark would, I think, simply say science happened here."

Agent Fitz threw up his hands, muttering about sensors and lack of equipment for measure, so it wasn't _real_ science, because who could bloody see a thing in this stupid basement?!

Loki was more interested in the small grin surfacing on Eleanore's lips. "Darren _would_ say that," she agreed. "What was the science?"

"What did you see?" Loki asked.

Eleanore pursed her lips and released her grip on Loki and Steve to mime shrinking. "Shhhoo-p." She finished with a _pop_ of her lips

"Another transport?" Steve asked.

"Another transport," Loki confirmed.

Eleanore poked at the light, so Loki made a bit hover above her hand. "Did all of them pull at your magic like that?"

"Like what?" Steve asked.

"Like…" she tried and failed to represent it with her hands, pulling her wiggling fingers back toward her chest. "Like what I imagine a black hole would do. Like, gloooomp."

"I prevented it from taking my power," Loki said with a smile. Eleanore was observant, even after everything.

"Power?" Fitz asked.

"Magic?" Simmons added.

They both stepped toward each other and a bit toward the Avengers trio. Fitz crossed his arms. "You got anything actually quantifiable? Or just random noises?"

Loki tapped Steve's arm so he could see this working. The shards of glass and their vapors and metals rose at his bidding to shine once more from the caged ceiling lights.

"... _What_ the hell," Fitz muttered weakly.

"That was neat," Steve said.

Loki smirked at the less-familiar humans who stood blinking in the unnatural light. "That should give you something to quantify."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

There were questions, of course. Just like the other young SHIELD children, Simmons and Fitz pressed Loki for details for every little part of the 'experiment' they'd just seen. They tried to lead him with words like 'ions' and 'matter displacement', and they grew increasingly frustrated when Loki told them their science did not fully encompass what they had witnessed.

"If you understand it, then _we_ should be able to," Fitz insisted.

Eleanore huffed. Actually _huffed_ , and she made the small man back up when she fixed him with a _look_. "A thousand years of learning something, and then like a month here, and you want him to speak in terms of Hawking? Try _listening._ And quit interrupting."

Loki waited until she was done berating. "… As I was saying. A transportation is more than a manipulation of time and space. Success depends upon a fundamental understanding of the being or object in motion." He realized he'd started the very 'Darren' habit of pointing his words at Eleanore. He decided to continue here, because she was the only one nodding. "If I were to shove one of these chairs across the room, it might fall because of weight distribution, mm? But if I keep everything around the chair the same and only change its place, then it just…" Loki called one of the wheeled spindle-legged contraptions to him, "… is."

Eleanore poked the chair so it swiveled slowly. "Could you send it back?"

Loki did, though he wondered if she would next ask him to return the magical sight he'd sloughed away at the beginning of his explanation. The chair appeared on the other side of the room again.

Eleanore waved her hand right where it had been. "So, no explosion because nothing is compressing here. Because you're not creating a chair-sized hole in the matter of the universe. But the chair is gone, so what holds things in place?"

"That's the trick your— the magician has yet to learn," Loki said. He did reach out and restore her sight because she was within arm's reach. Then he brought the chair back, and a bottle of water, which he handed to Eleanore. "If I did not stabilize their origin places, we would have the same destructive results."

Eleanore drank the water absently as he'd hoped.

"So," Steve said slowly, "so… you're using your magic— your power. It holds the universe in place."

"Well, it holds a _place_ in the _universe_ ," Loki corrected him. "It's simpler if I just exchange the matter from my target to my origination."

"Like— c'mere, Steve." Eleanore pulled the Captain forward and stepped back at the same time. "Like that. There's still a person in each spot."

Loki felt his smile widening. His chest warmed. "Yes, that's a rudimentary explanation."

"But they're two _different_ people," Simmons blurted. "Sorry," she said, "but I'm _not_ sorry. The Captain's mass is in no way equivalent to Agent Engman's. By switching them, or by switching air for a metal chair, you'd still be creating a huge gap."

Fitz chimed in. "The sheer volume of the energy required to maintain stability for an event like that is phenomenal."

"Loki is phenomenal," Eleanore said simply. "I mean, have you been _doing_ readings since we've been here? Look at this." She held her hand up to glow silver-white. "And look at _him_. And he's, like, barely trying."

Fitz and Simmons both hovered over one tablet. Their eyes darted from it to Loki and back so many times, Loki was certain they would get dizzy soon.

"Even with the recordings we just took of the chair thing, we don't have the data to explain it," Fitz finally muttered. "How d'you not tear the fabric of reality?"

Loki let himself smirk. "That's where the magic comes in."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

The plane ride back to D.C. was still quiet, but thoughtfully so. And it was interspersed with statement-questions from Eleanore that sparked small conversations until she and Steve sank back into their musings, leaving Loki to muse over them.

 _Brash_ , he thought, _both brash_. A word he'd long connected with Thor. But it applied here in a different way. These mortals grasped concepts he'd taken years to explain to the Thunder God, who still hadn't fully understood by the end. And, though Loki kept waiting for it, there was no " _Stop_ ," or _"That's enough_ ," from his small team. It seemed enough for them that Loki _could_ work miracles, that he would try to bend his efforts for them. They asked for nothing more.

 _Of course it_ _'s enough,_ snarled the Other's voice. _You_ _'re their little pet Frost Giant. If they could, they would breed more of you._

Loki shoved himself out of his seat to escape that pulling, tearing presence. Once up, he realized Eleanore was the only one in the cabin of the plane now because Steve was in the cockpit. He got her another water bottle from the supply cupboard to stymie that concern flooding her gaze.

"Thank you," Eleanore said, taking the water.

"As long as you don't hurl it forth again," Loki jested. He chose a perch on the other side of the aisle now. Distance, but a clear view.

She grinned. "Hopefully, I'm done with the hurling. Sorry about more scientists who don't listen to you."

"Yes, well. I take solace from the entertainment you provided in silencing them."

"I'll make Maria tell us what to expect next time," Eleanore promised anyway. She looked at the ceiling. "Maybe I wouldn't mind staying home for a couple of days."

"Coming up on the building," Steve reported.

Loki nodded carefully. "That could be beneficial. I'll continue by research in conjunction with Darren's findings in the lab. I find rest often gives way to insights, anyway."

"Yeah. But you only need like four hours of rest."

"I think someone with a psychological degree would tell you that 'sleep' and 'rest' are different."

Eleanore chuckled. "Smart ass. Good one. Good point, I mean. Actually, I think it's called 'self-care'."

"There you have it, then."

The plane jostled. Eleanore stood, stumbled, caught herself on one of the straps from the ceiling. "We'll have to trick Steve into it."

Loki stood as well. "I have a few ideas already. How long do the _Harry Potter_ movies last, exactly?"

 _ **A/N: Less of a wait than usual! I didn**_ _ **'t have this chapter as scripted as I wanted. It went through a bunch of re-writes, actually. There was a lot more crying in some of the other versions, but I am happiest with how this turned out.**_

 _ **Side note: This chapter alone is as long as my capstone course research project, but it was SO MUCH easier to write. Just in case anyone wanted to know that.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **Thank you so much! I hope the reunion did justice to your expectations. I didn**_ _ **'t figure Loki would be very effusive, so I left that up to good ol' June.**_

 **Gina:** _ **Thank you! I**_ _ **'m so glad you're enjoying this story! I love writing from the two different perspectives. I hope you also enjoyed this chapter!**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Thank you for reading! Please rate and review.**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	37. Chapter 37 S: R & R

"Good one," Steve congratulated as Loki helped him up yet again.

"Your feet shouldn't be so exposed," the demigod replied flatly. His face fell just a bit. "I had similar trouble when I was training as a warrior."

"What did you do?" Steve asked.

Loki let him go and started unwrapping the protectors from his hands. "I discovered I _would_ like to live through any battles I encounter, and began to act accordingly. I don't know what you'll do."

"I'll live." _When did we go into life-or-death?_ "I don't want to die."

Loki glanced back with a grin. "You don't generally lie, and not well, so I can see you believe that. It would be more convincing if you'd support your words with the pillars of action. Coffee?"

"Coffee. Your place. I'm out of food again."

It was weird, Steve thought as they walked home in the early morning light, how much tearing the team apart had brought them all together. Loki hadn't gotten angry once in the days since their return. To normalcy, Steve hoped. But normal had taken on a new definition.

"… _even think about it._ " Elle's voice ordered from behind the closed door.

Steve could hear her from the first flight of stairs. He slowed his steps, wondering if he should suggest a coffee shop. From the look on Loki's face, he'd discerned the argument already.

" _I_ _'ll buy you a new one_ ," Darren promised.

" _No, shove it up your ass. I said_ don't _put science in my kitchen._ "

" _Cooking is one hundred percent science, dear."_

" _Well, go science at your house. Seriously._ "

" _Love you. See you later?_ _"_

" _Love you too. Stop breaking my apartment, though."_

Darren met them outside the door. "Hey," he said, as though nothing was wrong.

"What did you do?" Loki asked.

"I… wondered if radiation would have the same effect on magic-infused palladium." The younger man dug into his pocket and handed Loki a couple of bills. "For when she decides to buy a new microwave," he explained.

 _Hopefully,_ Steve thought, _one with a lock_. He left Loki to jibe Darren a couple more times, and entered the acrid apartment.

It wasn't the same place it had been before Elle was taken. Darren practically lived here, and evidence of that lay in the various experiments left in different stages on the end table, island, and kitchen counter. There was also a lot of… stuff. Three computers— laptops for different reasons like gaming and science and miscellaneous hacking— and another block of a computer that didn't come with a screen, so the TV was now the screen, and the living room was only inhabitable if one knew how to navigate the wires crossing the wood floor.

Elle was stressed by the disarray. Clearly, with inhalations so sharp she coughed on them, and reminders to Darren to _pick up after himself_. And so was Loki, minus the reminders and the choking. But both of them had somehow managed this long under the pressure. Steve thought that Darren's days away researching might have helped with this. That and the fact that Elle hadn't been sleeping well at all, and Darren was more than willing to help her with that. But, Steve thought, still. The Stark had made this mess in the span of a few _nights_.

"Can you throw this out the fucking window?" Elle requested, whacking the smoking, once-white box hard enough to dent the top. "Ow." She coughed into her shirt collar.

"That seems dangerous," Steve said. A knot tightened in his chest; a sign of Eleanore's tension. "I'll carry it down to the dumpster."

"No," Elle said. "There are sanitation protocols." She slammed the microwave door, but it didn't hinge, so it hit her on the elbow when she tried to walk away.

"Are you fighting inanimate objects, now?" Loki asked, finally coming in the door. He brought a wave of fresh air that swept the smell out of the apartment to… somewhere.

"Yes," Elle decided. "Yeah. Will you help me?"

This request was for both men.

"Help you what?" Steve asked.

"I'm not destroying the machine further," Loki said.

"Help me get this shit out of here," Elle clarified. She gestured to the entire apartment. "I can't… I can't do this. Thought I could. Can't. Can you help me get it over to the gym? Sorry, I know you just came from there."

"Sure," Steve answered right away. He caught himself and added, "I'll help," so Loki didn't feel spoken for.

But Loki raised a hand poised to snap. "Are you certain?"

Elle nodded. "Can you do it without breaking the stuff?"

"Yes." And then everything was gone. Everything but the normal stuff.

Steve breathed a sigh as the knot uncoiled in his chest. It did look so much better uncluttered, without smoking plates of battery acid corroding things off of things to get other things.

"Thank you," Elle said wearily.

Loki walked into the living room. "Don't let the boy drag more refuse in, if you want to thank me."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

They returned to the gym early that afternoon, rested from a morning of reading and an art project that had white paint trapped in Elle's hair.

"I'll scrape it off when I shower," she said, pulling the curls into a loose braid. "Let's kick some ass."

The new 'normal' had their smaller team learning from each other more urgently. Steve was working on helping Elle and Loki think like a unit instead of individuals on a battlefield. Elle explained first aid, especially for 'weak human bodies,' as she had taken to calling herself and civilians. Steve knew about spinal boards, sutures, CPR, and the difference between shock and a real wound at this point.

Loki brought his own experiences with fighting into the mix. "Dead."

"But I'm not," Elle protested, wiggling the knife he'd handed her.

"You would be in an instant. That's not how you hold a blade."

"I don't typically use knives."

"Well." Loki firmed up her right hand's grip and placed a guarding blade in her left. "You should be prepared for anything. No?"

"Yes. How do you throw these?"

"First, you learn to hold them. And you don't wake up at four in the morning to cry into hot cocoa."

"Hey."

Loki laughed. "Now you're pointing the knife correctly."

Steve joined the lesson when the banter got even snarkier. Loki placed a temporary spell over his skin that acted as a metal barrier.

"I can hear your minds working," the dark-haired man said as his eyes faded from glowing green back to blue-ish. "This is going to drain your strength considerably against a stronger foe. Best to let your physical armor take most of the force and leave the magic to me."

"That's almost a song," Elle informed them with a light cough at the end. She started humming.

Loki hit the hilt of one of the knives, popping it out of her hand and catching easily. "Dead. As is that music."

"Are you going to show me how _not_ to be dead?"

"Yes. The first thing you both need to learn is how to dodge. I thought that was basic survival instinct, but it makes sense that _you_ two do not have it."

Steve tossed his own knife around. "We lived this long."

Elle poked at him with the knife she still had. It glanced off the spell with sparks. "Huh. Neat."

Loki frowned at them meaningfully. "My proof."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

"You are diseased," Loki said when Elle coughed again for the third time that hour.

"I'm not. It's hay-fever or something. Allergies," she clarified.

Steve found himself siding with Loki. "I've had allergies. This isn't them."

Elle eyed the pot of stir fry she was making. "I'll cough on both your plates and we can see if this is contagious, then."

"Please don't," Steve said, just as Loki said, "I won't be brought low by a pitiful mortal ailment."

"You guys are a—" Elle couldn't finish her sentence because she started coughing again.

Steve surreptitiously Googled her symptoms. He found results ranging from a common cold to TB to cancer, of course. "Why don't we visit Bruce just to get checked out?"

"Because I was there like four days ago. It's fine, Steve. Australia dust in my nose or something."

"Well, you look awful," Loki added.

Elle grinned at both of them. "I don't think that's anything new."

But she did look worse the next morning. Deep circles shaded below her eyes, and she moved painfully slow. And the cough was worse-sounding. Steve's mother would have said something like 'chest-deep'.

"She was up five times in the night just for the bathroom," Loki said. Then he closed his eyes, flipping a knife in his hand before hurling it into a bullseye across the target floor. "I never thought I would be reporting a mortal's bathroom habits."

"I'm glad you're keeping track," Steve said. "Better than me camping in the hallway."

"For so many reasons."

And Elle didn't improve with the day, even though they stayed at home most of the time. She tried to mask it behind reading and stillness, but she couldn't hide her discomfort during their sparring practice.

"You can go home," Steve offered. "We can go home. It's alright for one day."

"No, I'm learning," Elle insisted. "Look, this is cool." She tried to flip the knife between her fingers like Loki sometimes did.

The demigod popped it away yet again. "The goal is to _avoid_ blood spurting from blade wounds."

"Yeah." Elle stifled another hack. "Thanks."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

"Is Eleanore… okay?" Pepper Potts asked Steve the next morning in Tony's lab.

Steve watched Elle cough, wipe her eyes, cough again, and swig water from her thermos full of ice. Loki teased her about it, while Darren rubbed her shoulder in concern. "I was hoping Bruce would decide that," he said.

Pepper— a really kind, generous, smart woman Steve had only recently gotten to meet— looked at the ceiling. "Jarvis? Could you ask Bruce to join us please?"

" _Of course, Miss Potts._ "

"That was a good idea," Pepper complimented Steve. "Elle doesn't really listen to us that much, but she might listen to a doctor. You know, not a Tony-type of doctor. Good thing he's out with Natasha and Clint."

"It was Loki's idea," Steve admitted. "He brought all three of us here today."

"Huh," Pepper said. "I can approve of that kind of sneakiness."

"What kind of sneakiness?" Bruce asked, disembarking from the elevator.

"The kind where you go look at Eleanore for like one second and tell her she's sick," Pepper told him.

Bruce adjusted his glasses. "Wow, yeah, she does look bad. Sounds like it could be moving down already. I'll call in a 'scrip. Steve, when did this start?"

"Yesterday."

"Huh. Okay. Well, we'll get this medicine delivered, and then I recommend staying at home. Actually sounds like—"

A flash lit the sunny afternoon outside the lab's windows. The entire building shook.

"Is this cesium again?" Elle asked Darren.

"No, those experiments ended weeks ago," Darren replied.

Everyone rushed to the windows to gaze one hundred floors down to the streets.

"I can't even see—" Elle was saying when another bolt rattled the windows.

"It's coming from a mile in that direction," Loki said.

"Eyes in the sky Jarvis," Pepper requested.

A few drones— red and gold and small— disembarked from the Tower's lower levels. They whirred up the street until the screens in the lab lit with a glowing, arcing man.

"Is that the Magician?" Elle asked.

Steve noted Jet uncoiling from around her neck, where the dragon had taken up residence as a constant snake necklace since she got home.

"This isn't really magic," Loki said. "It's energy. I think not."

"Either way," Steve said, resigned, "let's suit up."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

" _You guys sure_ _…?"_ Bruce asked through the comms.

"We're alright," Elle assured him. "Right, Steve?"

"So far," Steve agreed, trying not to squeeze her middle too hard as Jet winged them through the sky.

They landed on a side street next to a police car. Jet puffed air over Eleanore once before surging upward again.

"Evacuation and containment," Steve reminded everyone with a hand to his ear.

" _Containment is going to be an issue,_ _"_ Loki reported flatly. " _Your newest problem has found an energy source._ "

The comms crackled. So did the power lines around them, sizzling until they snapped and flailed.

" _Listen to this_ ," Darren said.

Another voice took over. " _The time has come for mortal men to kneel before the might of Vulcan!_ _"_

Elle scrunched her face. "Wow. Real Witch King mistake. I think I can just whack this guy, if he isn't aware women exist."

"We can whack him together," Steve offered. "First, let's get the civilians out of the way."

This was easier than they thought. It was a Sunday, and few of the office buildings were inhabited. Steve and Elle found a few overtime workers and sent them in the direction of local law enforcement and paramedics. They slowly worked their way closer to the actual fight.

"Steve!"

He didn't see the tank of a man coming until two walls blasted past. Steve threw himself off the guy, caught his breath, and watched his legs crumple as Elle clenched her fist.

"Thanks," Steve said. "We'll watch for more."

Elle knelt on the guy's chest. _"Are_ there more of you? How many?"

The man spit at her, but it hit her helmet's visor.

"Cool," Elle said dryly. "Definitely going to let your legs heal at a normal pace now."

" _I_ _'ve got this phasing guy taking out cop cars,_ " Darren informed them.

" _One messing with wires in the traffic lights,_ " Bruce added. " _I can_ _'t tell if he's some kind of mutant or just… oh. He's melting the poles."_

Steve and Elle finally emerged to the crumbling landscape.

"Found the pole melty guy!" Elle crowed, racing off.

Steve found the phasing-through-cop-cars guy. He was… not a guy, actually. Just a large woman in baggy clothes who tried to go through Steve and ended up knocking herself out on his shield.

" _What even_ is _vibranium?!_ " Darren asked, landing next to him.

Steve shrugged. "Aren't you supposed to know?"

Darren folded his mask back. "Huh. Well, no one else knows either. I mean, my grandpa made it into a Frisbee."

" _If you_ _'re quite finished,_ " Loki said, " _Stark, your pitiful magic might actually help._ "

"That bad?" Steve asked. He started sprinting toward Loki after he zip-tied the phase lady's wrists to a pole. Hopefully SHIELD, en-route from their hidden New York facility, could find a way to contain her.

" _Just stay away,_ " Loki dismissed.

Steve didn't exactly listen. At all. And neither did the rest of the team. Elle joined him just around the corner from the blasts.

She bent double, hands on her knees. "What can we do?"

" _People deep inside the brown building to my right are shouting about injuries,_ " Loki informed them in a disinterested tone. Steve saw him targeting the Vulcan guy, who was shooting beams of energy into the foundations of every structure in sight.

Another brawny henchman shouted as he leapt over a dump truck. Elle flicked her hand to knock him back in midair, and Steve finished the job when the guy got up again. The 'Frisbee' was coming in handy today. He handcuffed the guy and raced over, coming around behind Loki's huge, golden, glowing magic shield to present less of a distraction. "I'm on my way in."

"Same," Elle said shortly.

"You guys are clear to enter. The building looks sound." Darren spoke up as Steve waited for Elle to join him. Steve was getting better about waiting for backup, as long as backup came quickly. He had to be a good example, or Loki and Elle would both throw it in his face.

Elle kept her helmet up, nodding at Steve as she came up beside him. They walked together into the darkened building.

"Must have cut the power," she observed quietly, digging in the medical bag for a tiny flashlight that she handed to Steve. "How loud can you yell?"

"Pretty loud."

"Then announce us, please," the regal tone had him grinning, even though he knew they'd find an injury ahead of them somewhere.

"This is Captain America!" Steve tried, not really sure what the people would respond to. "I have a medic here to help you out! We need your location!"

Silence followed his words, and the crumbling of plaster was all Steve's ears picked up.

"Loki, are you sure we went in the right building?" Eleanore asked, bringing a finger to where her ear would be.

" _You doubt my superior hearing? I_ _'m hurt._ " The crackling sounds on Loki's end were, Steve knew, caused by the huge amounts of energy the demigod was wrestling with. " _I definitely heard screaming and pleas for assistance from that building. I also just heard the announcement of Captain America and company. So patriotic_."

"We'll find them then," Steve assured him, not wanting Loki distracted with so much at stake. Vulcan was proving to be more of a problem than they had anticipated, since half their team was gone on another mission. Tony, Natasha, and Barton were on their way back from rounding up a terrorist group in a small village in France. Bruce was on standby at the Tower because Steve hadn't wanted to bring him close to a simple one-on-four fight. Of course, with the mutant henchmen, things were much more complicated.

"Heat readings toward the middle of the building," Eleanore informed him, moving ahead. Steve shone the light on the floor for her and tried to listen for any signs of life as they gingerly picked their way across the rubble-strewn tiles. It was only a three-story building in the riverside factory district, but it held offices with people inside. Or at least that was the working theory.

"Elevator?" he suggested, spotting the partially open metal box just twenty feet ahead.

"We can try it. My sensor is all wonky."

"Hello?" Steve stepped around Eleanore, wary of an ambush. There was no answer, and he stuck first his shield hand, then the flashlight inside the doors. Seeing nothing, he pulled them apart to reveal a collapsed woman with blood trailing from a glass shard in her thigh.

"Take it easy." Elle was already stepping around him, squeezing through the small opening. Steve stood watch at the door as she went to work, talking to the woman as she sat her up, looked in her eyes, examined the wound. "Okay, this is going to hurt. Steve, can you hold her still?"

"What are you doing?" the lady panicked, breathing faster and scrambling to her feet. Steve stepped closer, but he didn't reach for her. "You can't pull it out! I've seen the shows!"

"Ma'am, I'm a professional," Eleanore stayed calm, holding out her hands. "I'll get you healed up before you bleed out."

"Oh, you're _that_ one." The woman snarled, recognition distorting her features with hatefulness. She braced herself against the wall and tried to stand. "I don't need your help. I'm getting out of here."

" _Ruffian heading into your area,_ _"_ Loki informed them. " _Not very threatening, but he has a gun and a backpack._ _"_

"Roger that," Steve responded, looking around and shining the flashlight across the limited space. His view was blocked by walls and two large pillars for the most part, but he didn't' hear any footsteps either.

"Don't go onto the street," Eleanore cautioned, even as the woman pushed her out of the way. Steve let her hobble by him, feeling anger rising over the ' _that one_ _'_ comment. "Look, Captain America is here. He'll help, and I won't even touch you." Elle stepped forward, raising her hands in surrender.

"Stay away from me, freak!" the woman shrieked, backing across the hall, hand on her side. Steve shone the light so she could see where she was going, even though what he really wanted to do was leave her behind and get out of the building. Or worse. Captain America helped everyone, but Steve Rogers didn't always like it.

"Go that way." Elle was still directing her away from the energy battle, pointing to the back exit that led into an alley. There was darkness in both directions, but that was this lady's best bet.

Something clicked off to Steve's left, and his eyes were drawn to the red glow of LED's shining at the base of a pillar fifty feet away, footsteps receding back toward the entrance. The clock was facing away from them, but Steve could make out the variations in brightness that meant a countdown. _Backpack_ _…_

"Elle, down!" He didn't wait, didn't bother about the woman who was now stumbling to the back of the building, except to throw the flashlight ahead of her. He pushed Eleanore back into the elevator and hauled the door shut as quickly as he could, crouching and bringing his shield up above their heads.

"Steve, what the hell?" Elle asked, her voice still coming through the helmet. "Steve?" the click of her mask, a breath across his face, and she was shaking his arm. "Steve, answer me!"

"There's a bomb out there," Steve forced out, muscles still clenched in anticipation. "That guy's backpack."

"Are you… sure?" She sounded concerned more than afraid.

"I'm sure. It just hasn't gone off yet. Put your helmet back on." Steve was already feeling kind of ridiculous. They could probably have run out of the building by now. That hobbling mutant hater was likely long gone to find some human paramedics and expensive healthcare.

"Okay, what ti—" Elle was asking, ignoring his helmet order, when a roaring flash of heat rocked their metal container. Steve heard cables snapping, then a feeling of weightlessness had him holding Eleanore close in midair and rolling so his back could take the hit when they stopped falling. He held his shield above them with one arm in case the ceiling fell.

The drop wasn't bad, only fourteen feet or so, and the elevator absorbed a lot of the shock of impact. The building was still cracking around them, but they were in a strategic location: a metal box surrounded by mortar walls in the basement of a three-story building. As long as only the top floors collapsed, they should survive. Still, as soon as he landed he shoved Elle into a corner and crouched over her with his shield once again. Now there were three barriers protecting her at least, not including her suit. Was her helmet still down? He felt with one gloved hand and found her hair and ear, so he crouched closer.

"Helmet!" he tried to shout over the falling rubble. To his satisfaction, he felt the metal come up to encase her head once more.

The noise gradually subsided, going from more explosions to tumbling rocks to clattering metal to whispers of dust in a matter of moments.

" _Steve? Elle? Can you hear me?_ _"_ Darren's worried voice cut through the comlinks as Steve's ears readjusted to the quiet.

"We're here," he confirmed. "Elle, sound off."

"I'm fine, nothing hurt." She put a hand on his shoulder and pushed gently, so he moved out of her way. "Looking for my med bag for a flashlight," she explained, both to him and the people on the other end of the line.

"What's your status out there?" Steve asked, listening to her slowly feeling around the floor. A click sounded, and then white light made him flinch and blink.

" _Vulcan is still putting up a fight,_ _"_ Darren informed them. _"I think you guys exploding was supposed to be a distraction. Loki and Jet are attacking from every angle, and I'm shielding civilians, but he's just redirecting the energy. It's kind of a stalemate, but with lots of damage."_

" _I do not see you attempting to alleviate our situation,"_ Loki remarked, sounding out of breath and frustrated. " _Would not the green monster break through this more quickly?_ _"_

"You're right." Steve nodded, even though only Elle, sitting in the middle of the floor and checking over her supplies, could see him. "Darren, call in Banner."

" _What about you guys? A building collapsed on you._ _"_ While Darren's voice had lost its worried edge, Steve knew he'd still be itching to rescue them.

"We're good to wait." Elle spoke up this time, looking up and around through her helmet. "We're in the elevator, and it's holding up really well. Seems like we'd actually be okay for days. I'm going to shut off this light to conserve power."

" _Prepare to wait, then. I will not be retrieving you any time soon."_ Loki remarked. Steve saw Elle shaking her head, and his imagination supplied the accompanying eye roll. Then she reached down and clicked off the flashlight, leaving them in darkness again.

" _Keep your coms on, we_ _'ll update you."_ Darren was more helpful, as always. " _I_ _'m going to call in Bruce and direct him, though, so speak up if you get into trouble."_

"Got it," Steve acknowledged, and the comlink went silent. He pulled his own hood-helmet off and ran a gloved hand through his hair.

"So, are you really okay?" Eleanore's muted voice approached him, and she sat down against the wall Steve leaned on.

"Yeah, just a few bruises." Steve chose to be truthful, since there was nothing very worrying about their situation at all. He wished to be out and in the battle, calling shots, protecting people, but at least they were safe in this trap. He had to keep thinking of things to be thankful for. It helped pull his mind from dark thoughts.

Eleanore was quiet for a long moment. Suddenly, Steve heard her shifting convulsively, and he reversed his thankful thoughts.

"Elle? Talk to me. Jarvis, put down her helmet." He reached out and caught what he hoped was her arm, but she just kept shaking in a familiar pattern. A metallic series of snaps, and a rasping, hacking cough filled the previously quiet space, echoing off the walls in strange patterns.

"—fine— just dust." Elle grabbed his hand and pushed something small into it. Steve messed with it and clicked on the tiny flashlight, finding her bent double on all fours, one hand on her chest. She spat a wad of mucus onto the floor, almost falling over in the process. "Water," she forced out, then kept choking, sounding and looking like she was coughing up a lung.

Steve pulled her bag over and found one of the tiny metal bottles she kept in the outer pockets. "Here," he held it out, and she held her breath long enough for a quick drink. Her coughing slowed and quieted until she was gasping for air.

"Look at me," Steve did what she would do if their situations were reversed. He set the flashlight on the ground and crooked a finger under her chin, turning her to face him. _Flushed cheeks, labored breathing, hands shaking, tired_ _…_

"Bronchitis," Eleanore supplied, leaning sideways against the wall. "It's not dangerous. Or contagious. Don't—" she coughed again, less loudly, and sighed. "Don't worry."

"You knew this and went into battle." Steve had _had_ bronchitis before, back before the serum. It shortened his breath to the point he couldn't walk up stairs. Bucky had brought him his homework the days he stayed away from school for lack of air.

"I was with Jet." Elle met his eyes defiantly, and Steve felt real anger directed toward her for the first time.

"You're not with him now _._ You're in danger _now._ What the hell were you thinking?"

"I'm not in danger, I'm in an elevator." Another cough wracked the small space. Elle wiped tears away, leaving brown, dusty tracks down her cheeks.

"You should be at home."

"I don't agree." She was unapologetic, lips drawn in a thin line, chin stuck into a stubborn angle, eyes wide, eyebrow raised.

"You put the team in danger." He was trying to get her to see his side, but he felt the futility of the situation as she doubled over again for almost a minute.

"I helped the team, actually. It's not even that bad. I self-diagnosed, and it's early stages." She straightened and retorted, voice weaker, attitude stronger. "Besides, if I stay home so does Jet. And we needed him for this one."

Steve figured that that explanation was as close as she would get to remorse. Another round of hacking took over so he put aside his argument, saving it for later, and gave her another drink.

"Here, sit back." He propped her against the wall and knelt in front of her, going through the medical bag. He found lots of bandages, gauze, supportive tape, a rolled-up blanket, a suture kit, antiseptic, aspirin, ibuprofen, a couple full sized bottles of water, syringes of adrenaline, and epinephrine. "None of this really helps."

"Give me the ibuprofen," she held out her hand and he placed one of the two-pill packets into it. "It will reduce swelling, at least."

"At least." Steve was still angry as he watched her nonchalantly swallow the pills and sit back, because the swelling was in her _lungs_. "Wait a second. Here." He pulled a handkerchief out of one of his pockets, careful to keep it clean, and poured water on it as they'd done in smoky buildings back in the War. "Dust mask."

"Thanks," Elle took it and placed it over her nose and mouth. "We should turn the flashlight off," she suggested. "Save battery."

"Didn't Stark Industries make this?" Steve examined the tiny plastic cylinder. It didn't have a logo on it.

"No, you threw that one after that…" she searched for the right word to describe the awful woman, "civilian. This is my backup that I usually use because I don't care if it breaks."

"Why'd you give me the good one, then?" Steve shut off the light, plunging them back into dusty darkness as he spoke.

"Because _I_ use the crappy one. I thought, hey, I'll let my good friend Steve use the nice one. Not like he'll break it or throw it or a—" she dissolved again into choking convulsions. "This is why we can't have nice things."

"You sound… your breathing is still awful," Steve said bluntly, listening to the crackle of her lungs with every inhalation. It brought up memories of his mother's worried face, of cold washcloths and steaming pans of water that he had to crouch over with a towel on his head.

"I can't stop breathing," Elle responded sarcastically.

Steve rolled his eyes and sat next to her against the wall, putting things back into her pack the way he'd found them. "Just don't talk a lot." He advised. He remembered his mom saying that, that the vibration of the vocal chords could cause more coughing.

"Darren would laugh." Elle kept her response short, biting back another spasm, or maybe a chuckle.

"The whole team would," Steve agreed, knowing what she meant. Tony called her 'princess' quite a bit, not because she was royal. "I'll talk instead. Don't interrupt me." She told Darren that all the time, since the youngest Stark had quick ideas coming into his mind even as she spoke to him.

"Yes sir."

Steve was suddenly at a loss for things to say. Not that he didn't also give speeches to the team, handing out more orders than Eleanore, but she'd heard a lot of his opinions already. He didn't want to repeat himself with old war stories like a real 'old man.' He started sorting through recent events, coming up against a wave of frustration as he thought of the fact she shouldn't even be in this situation. A lecture, though, would make her respond, and he really did want to help keep her quiet.

"Will you tell me about boot camp?" she asked suddenly, her voice subdued.

"Sure," he hadn't talked at length about his life pre-serum, unless it was to mention very specific memories that came up in modern situations. He'd always figured people wouldn't care, since Captain America was born in the lab, and Steve Rogers was just a kid from Brooklyn. "It was in New Jersey. They closed it." He could still picture the dusty training ground shifting in the morning sun as his oxygen levels dropped from a lack of air. Peggy and the sergeant yelling at them as they did push-ups and ran endless miles in heavy boots and packs.

"Tough?" Elle asked, her breathing slowed and more even.

"I didn't think I had a prayer. All the other guys were already strong. There was this one guy, Hodge. I thought for sure they'd pick him." Steve kept his personal feelings about Hodge to himself, not wanting to speak ill of an old, probably dead, man.

"They were always going to pick you."

"Thanks, but you're not supposed to be talking, remember?" Steve grinned into the darkness at the annoyed sigh she gave in reply.

" _Hulk's taking out henchmen left and right,"_ Darren reported, sounding distracted. _"But we've got bigger problems. Vulcan smashed into a large electrical substation and he's really bulked up on its power."_ There was a pause filled with static and yelling. Then Darren came back, sounding more strained than ever. _"He's even gotten through Jet's defenses, and one wing is ripped. No flight. He and Loki are holding Vulcan in one place, but I don't know how long that'll last."_

"Get Hulk to charge straight at Vulcan," Steve ordered urgently. "You attack from behind and above. Take him down."

"Jarvis, display available cameras in a hologram," Elle said quietly, holding out her hand. A bluish-white screen lit up from her palm, illuminating the room, showing Darren's point of view, a couple of Stark camera drones, and the situation from Jet's saddle side by side. She rested her arm on a bent knee and together they watched the bright flashes of energy, the smoke curling around Jet's hurt wing.

There were glimpses of Vulcan wielding white power tinged with red. He looked unharmed, and his expression was one of calm concentration. He was in an open area, at least, away from large crowds of evacuating civilians. The tendrils of electricity didn't reach far, and the most property that was being damaged were a few fences and the windowless side of an abandoned factory. Steve took a second to feel proud of his team, whose main concern was always protecting anyone they could.

Darren's camera was moving past tall buildings, landing right beside the Hulk as he smashed one of the henchmen through the sidewalk. The green giant gazed down at him until a silent order was given. Then they both took off back toward the main battle.

A drone switched from Vulcan to check on Loki, and Elle let out a startled gasp, the handkerchief mask falling forgotten to the ground. The dark-haired man was wavering, almost shivering, dripping sweat as he held back massive waves of lightning-fast attacks. They couldn't hear anything from him, so his com was probably fried. His teeth were bared in a savage grimace, and he looked like he was yelling from time to time, whether in frustration or effort Steve couldn't tell. Loki was usually so ridiculously strong and unflappable… Now his eyes burned golden-green with magic and he looked like he was about to collapse. Every once in a while, he dodged around a bolt and sent his throwing knives or a blast of his own to attempt an end to the assault, but Vulcan didn't spare them a glance. His energy shield ate them up in flames and sparks.

Jet looked even worse when a camera cut to him. His left wing wasn't just ripped, the skin at its tip was gone, exposing glowing white bones and crusted blue blood. He wasn't moving well, crouched as close to Loki as he could get, letting barrage after barrage of blue flames block blasts that would head toward the closest buildings and the demigod. His orange scales were dulled with dust, his tail lashing angrily like Charlie's did when he was playful. Loki yelled something at him, and he bounded off to attack from another angle about fifty meters away.

Darren hovered behind Vulcan and used both technology and magic to try to distract the criminal's attention from the demigod and the dragon. It wasn't working. Missiles and bullets only seemed to redirect or disappear, and Darren's magic was barely enough to deflect attacks centered on himself. Vulcan largely ignored him.

Steve squinted against the sudden light as Vulcan drew all his power inward for a moment, then let it loose in a huge, directed storm with two beams that went right for Darren and Jet.

"No, no, no, nononono," Elle whispered, leaning forward. Her eyes were wide and glassy with unshed tears. Steve didn't have time to reassure her, and he didn't know how he would. This was more than they'd ever bargained for.

The screen cleared to show all three of them still alive, with Jet and Darren unharmed. Loki, however, fell to his hands and knees, his head bowed, limbs shaking. His hands were steaming, and they looked… gray. Steve realized he'd shielded himself and the other two, or else they'd be seeing two dead bodies and one standing demigod. Loki looked up at Darren, straight into the camera, and his mouth formed one word: _"Go_."

Vulcan sent one last stream forward from his hands, and Loki was tossed through the air like a convulsing rag doll. He landed hard and slid to a stop in the middle of the torn up street. His eyes were closed, and Steve couldn't see if he was breathing or not. His body was smoking like a fog machine.

Vulcan turned and prepared to vaporize Jet and Darren when Hulk finally tore into view, launching into the electric hub and smashing the mutant man into the ground with two well-placed punches. Vulcan blasted him back and then it was an even match, with Hulk rushing in and Vulcan deflecting him with ever-increasing blasts.

" _Anyone call for a brilliant inventor?"_ Tony's voice suddenly cut in, and his camera was added to the display.

"Stark," Steve said, his throat dry with strain and dust.

"Tony, do you have something?" Elle asked breathlessly, her eyes still trained on the battle.

" _I have lots of things. I'm a billionaire."_ Tony pointed out glibly. _"But just for you, I have a superconductor that'll take this guy's energy and release it all at once into the atmosphere."_

"Oh, thank god." Elle sighed quietly.

"You have to be quick," Steve said. "We've been fighting Vulcan for an hour, and he's only gotten stronger."

" _Quick is… not what I'm known for, if you know what I mean."_ Steve rolled his eyes as Tony flew into a drone's view, then launched upward. He was almost out of sight, high above the ground, when he started diving. He aimed as he went, holding a huge silver chunk of technology with six clawing arms out in front of him. _"Everyone clear out!"_

Tony slammed into Vulcan's back just as Hulk moved away. The claws took hold, gripping the mutant's chest and back, sucking in the energy around him. Tony flew backward and crouched over Loki's prone form just as the drones were turned to dust by a blast of energy that shot straight into the sky. Some of it dispersed and drew clouds over the entire horizon. Lightning flashed and rain started almost immediately. Vulcan was left lying in the wreckage of the substation, quivering and otherwise immobile.

"Darren, get Hill to send agents to collect him," Steve ordered, wanting the damn criminal in custody already.

"And get us the _fuck_ out of here," Elle said frantically, fidgeting in frustration. Steve couldn't blame her.

" _Hulk's heading over,"_ Darren said. His camera showed him landing, stumbling over to where his father was still acting as a human shelter over Loki's body. _"Loki's breathing, barely. Smells like he got burned, but I can't see anything yet. And some of his blades are right here,"_ Darren's finger pointed to Loki's shoulders, chest, abdomen, thighs where the knives were buried up to their handles.

"Leave those alone," Elle commanded. Above their heads, rocks shifted and roars became closer and closer. "Darren, keep him still and keep the rain off him." She got up and put on her pack in the light of the still-shining holographic screen. Steve rose as well, picking up his now-muddy hankie and putting it back in his pocket. "Are you okay? Is Jet?"

" _I'm fine, just tired,"_ Darren reported. _"Jet's right here."_ The camera moved in an arch, picking up first the tip of an undamaged wing deflecting raindrops from the crouched Avengers, the webbing of bones and veins as lightning flashed behind it, and a scaly side complete with legs and claws.

The ceiling of their elevator dented. Two sets of fingers punched through it, and then it was gone. Hulk stood above them, an accomplished smile on his face.

"Thanks, buddy," Elle said, reaching up with one arm to be lifted onto the building's rubble. Steve was last, and he surfaced next to an impatient Eleanore, bouncing precariously on the balls of her feet. "Can you get us over there?" she asked their panting teammate.

Hulk grunted and picked her up in one arm like a baby. He held the other arm out, but Steve stepped back and shook his head.

"Thanks, I'll walk. Meet you there." He wiped the drops of rain away with one gloved hand as his two friends bounded away in one gargantuan leap. Steve sighed, his chest tightening in anticipation for what he'd find when he reached them. He started leaping, too, from rock to angled rock until he was on the cracked street.

They weren't far away, only about a block. It felt good to sprint that distance after so much tense stillness. White light was glowing over Loki's exposed chest, where the embedded knives were surrounded by blistered burn marks. Their metal had acted as a conductor, sending the energy straight through Loki's body instead of just hitting him bluntly. When Steve walked up, Eleanore was pulling a knife out. No blood came with it, only cauterized flesh. Darren hadn't exaggerated the smell.

Loki's skin was fading to gray right before Steve's eyes. His features were slack. The lack of expression made him into an unfamiliar, passive version of the demigod they'd come to know. Black, vine-like things roped up his chest to his neck and arms, down to his hands, which were purple and black with swollen bruising.

"Pulse weak, breathing labored, unresponsive…" Elle was muttering, her suit discarded completely in favor of bare hands and comfortable clothes. Darren was right beside her, looking half-asleep and worried at the same time. Tony was standing, helmetless, just outside the shelter of Jet's wing watching Vulcan's still form just a few meters away. Hulk had wandered off to turn back into Bruce.

"Neck and spine intact, regular brain activity, at least for a human… I think." Elle continued rambling through her thoughts. Thunder roared overhead. The storm was gaining strength. "Steve, hold his head still in case he moves. Tony, I need some light here. Shit, it looks like he's getting worse. Loki, can you hear me? Try to focus on breathing. Darren, rest for—"

She was doling out professional-sounding orders that gained in urgency when a burst of energy crashed down only twenty feet away. Steve smelled ozone, heard panicked shouting, shielded Loki with his kneeling body, and tried to see through the spots dancing in his eyes.

There were two Asgardians standing on a patterned circle that was burned into the ground. One was a guard, complete with the spear and sword and aloof expression Steve remembered from the golden palace. The other was a woman clad in draped white, wearing a concerned look and carrying a large, brown leather bag. They walked forward hurriedly, and the woman went directly to Eleanore shoving the bag into her hands.

"Healing supplies," she explained. "I will show you how to use them."

"What the— okay." Elle adapted quickly, picking up the first object the other woman handed her. It was a tiny silver disk ringed with ridges.

"Place that on his temple to fully sedate," the woman ordered. When Elle complied and the disk lit up and stuck to Loki's skin, the woman offered a silver tube with several needles set into its end like a rounded fork. "Right into his heart."

Elle didn't hesitate, stabbing Loki in the chest with all the force she could muster and emptying the tube with the plunger. "What's that do?"

"It promotes the healing process," the woman in white explained. She got out a vial and a piece of cloth and handed both to Steve. "Captain, pour this liquid onto the cloth and press it to his lips. Only a few drops at a time."

Steve did as he was asked. The stuff smelled like some unfamiliar sort of mint, but it was bright yellow and almost the consistency of warm honey. "What's this do?" he asked, both out of curiosity and because he knew Elle was wondering.

"It will give him strength. Now," the woman patiently brought a small golden device with cords coiling out of it into view. She gave it to Eleanore. "One in each shoulder, two in his chest, one in his stomach."

Elle stuck the cords, which turned out to have barbed sorts of needles on their ends, to Loki's skin. "Stabilization?"

"Yes, very good." The woman gave a short smile and reached back into the bag. "These are the final touch. Healing stones. Used for open wounds of a non-fatal nature." She gave a rock to Eleanore. "Crumble it slowly and sprinkle the bits into the wounds." Elle did, and a bright blue glow swallowed each in turn, leaving regular, unblemished skin. The deep bruises remained, along with some of the deeper burns, but it was a definite improvement. "Over his legs as well. The stones will remove obstructions." They did, making each knife withdraw and clatter to the ground until there were just rips in the armor's material over still-gray skin.

"Holy shit," Tony muttered, still shining a beam on the scene. Steve had to agree, although he wished cursing wasn't Asgard's first impression of modern Earth.

"I will leave these extra stones with you." The woman rose and left the bag beside Eleanore. "Prince Loki should wake within a day, though he will be exhausted and very much weakened. Take the sedation disk off his head when you get him somewhere safe. Do not allow him to exert himself for a week, at least. He should not perform or handle any magic for that amount of time as well. Forgive our abrupt introduction. My name is Eir, first healer of Asgard's royal infirmary. My companion is Yngvar, second leader of the Einherjar."

"I'm Eleanore Engman," Elle started, staying close to Loki, one hand on his chest to measure his breathing. "This is Captain Steve Rogers, Tony and Darren Stark, and Jet."

"It is an honor to meet all of you," Eir said. "If circumstances allowed, I would enjoy knowing you further. As it stands, however, my orders are to return immediately to Asgard."

The guard, Yngvar, just watched them, glancing back at the circle from time to time and giving Jet a weird glare laden with distrust.

"Is everything okay?" Elle asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Asgard is well," Yngvar spoke for the first time in a deep baritone. "The Allfather simply wishes us to have no personal interaction with the traitor prince."

 _Did he really just say that?_ Steve stood up and turned to face them, feeling anger burning his lungs. "You're right, you should go." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting down from twenty. Ten was too short to keep him from saying something they'd all regret.

"And don't come back if you're going to talk about him like that." Eleanore had never been one for counting. Steve glanced at her and saw defensive anger shooting figurative sparks from her eyes. Elle would get mad or sad about cruel insults to herself if she didn't just brush them off, but she got over them quickly. Insults to her friends, however, were fought with venom and not easily forgiven. Steve doubted Yngvar would ever get respect from her again, even if she lived another thousand years.

Eir nodded, something like amusement or pride hiding behind her bland expression. "The equipment will last your lifetime at least, and if you need more healing stones, simply ask. Use them on your friends, but sparingly, in place of your own powers. It was an honor to work alongside you, Lady Eleanore. Farewell." With that, another beam descended through the clouds and took them back to the golden city.

The yellow stuff was almost gone. Steve poured the rest of it onto the cloth and finished wringing it out slowly. He timed the drops carefully so Loki wouldn't choke.

Elle checked Loki's vitals manually and breathed a sigh of relief. "Eir was cool, but that guy was an asswipe."

"Thought you were gonna rip his head off, Princess," Tony chuckled. Elle gave him a light version of _the look_ and he cleared his throat. "He totally deserved it, of course."

"Of course," Darren agreed with a relieved grin. He placed his hand on Elle's shoulder. "So is Loki going to be okay?"

"Seems like it," Elle said, taking the wrinkled cloth from Steve and sniffing it. "Do you think this is Nectar or Ambrosia?"

"Wrong mythology," Tony shook his head. "Maybe it's Idunn's apple juice."

Steve cut in before they could get into a discussion about it. "Should we move him someplace more comfortable?"

"We called a medic team, but all of SHIELD's are working with civilians," Darren said. "This was a bad one."

"If we had a quinjet, we could get him to the infirmary." Elle looked Loki over. "Steve and I should stay with him if we do that, in case he freaks out when he wakes up."

"We could take him home," Steve suggested. "He's stable, and it's familiar."

"Still, how do we get him there?" Elle asked, frowning at the drizzle.

"A Stark quinjet is on the way." Tony held up a GPS map that showed a rapidly-moving dot. "It'll hover over your roof for five minutes, then return to the hangar."

"Perfect, thanks Tony." Eleanore smiled and stood. "Jet, let me have a look at that wing." She walked around the dragon and out of sight, leaving Steve kneeling beside Loki. A moment later she returned, looking tired already. "There we go."

There was a whirring noise and the quinjet landed. Tony stood, metal suit clanking. "I'll take Bruce back to the Tower. Darren, you coming?"

"Yeah," Darren stood up and kissed Elle on the forehead. "Let me know if you need anything. See you on Friday? Love you. Bye, Steve." He folded his helmet back up, picked up Loki's discarded upper armor, and took off with his dad, heading back home.

"So I'll go get a gurney, then we'll put him on the plane," Elle planned, dashing off without waiting for acknowledgment. She returned in a minute, rolling the black and silver bed with white sheets.

They got Loki situated gently, and secured the gurney in the plane. Jet turned back into a dog and hopped in beside them, curling up and falling asleep immediately. Steve sank into a seat with a sigh as the hatch closed and they rose off the ground. The autopilot was set for a round trip, and all they had to do was relax.

Elle checked Loki's vitals one more time before she sat beside Steve with a quiet cough. "This is the second time he's been injured on one of these things. That was scary."

"Yeah," he agreed. He forgave her, then, for putting herself at risk in the battle. Loki really had needed her, and she'd done a lot of good otherwise. Saved a lot of people. "You did well under pressure, though."

"Thanks. You did well not yelling at that jerk of a guard."

"Figured I'd let you handle that," Steve joked, earning a chuckle.

Elle smiled for a moment, then furrowed her brow with a frown. "I don't know what he's going to do when we let him go."

"He might go to another realm— not Asgard."

"That's the dumbest thing ever. Why would his parents not try to make a better place for him to come home to?" She was getting angry again, and frustrated.

"They might be trying. Don't worry about it yet," Steve advised. "People as a large group are slow to change."

"Especially when they're immortal, self-righteous—"

"— People who can hear you all the time," Steve reminded her.

"Only one of them," she protested. "Did you see Vulcan get taken away?"

"No," Steve tried to recall. "He might still be there."

"That might be against regulation," Elle grinned, then devolved into tired giggles. "Can't let the poor guy get all rainy."

Steve shared the smile, then put a hand up to his ear. "Jarvis, can you connect me to Agent Hill?"

" _Right away, sir._ _"_ There was a moment of silence, then a ring. _"Hill."_

"This is Rogers. Do you have the Vulcan in custody?"

" _We…"_ Hill trailed off. _"Captain, we thought he was with the Starks."_

"No, Darren asked you to pick him up."

Hill's voice moved away from the phone. _"I need eyes on Vulcan now… What do you mean where? Check with Tony Stark right now. Fuck."_ She came back, _"Captain, he's not there."_

"He was paralyzed," Steve retorted. "Where could he go?"

" _We'll figure it out. For now, stay on high alert. We'll send agents to guard your building, and more to search. I'll keep you updated. Talk to you soon."_ Hill hung up, leaving Steve staring at his hands in shock. They'd lost the only guy who could take Loki out. Someone else had him, and it wasn't anyone affiliated with SHIELD.

"What happened?" Elle asked. Steve told her, and her expression changed from disbelief to horror. "God damn it."

"I know." He looked over at Loki. "We really have to stay with him, now. The whole team does. No more battles apart. Vulcan could show up any time and do the same or worse."

Elle nodded thoughtfully, still angry. "Or the Magician. Or whoever. Here." She reached around and got the brown leather bag out. "Take some healing stones. Did you see how she used the equipment?"

"Yeah." Steve pocketed three ordinary-looking rocks. He could feel worry coiling in his stomach, not his own. "We'll figure this out, Elle."

"I know." She drew her knees up to her chest. "We should probably try to stop making enemies though."

"We can try that," Steve agreed. He looked Loki over again. One former enemy among many. This one had saved their lives today. Many, _many_ lives, in fact. "One day at a time, right?"

Elle nodded, resting her chin on her knees. "One day at a time."

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

 _ **A/N: Action! Also, lights and cameras. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I have a large part of the next one written, so I hope to update again this week.**_

 **Lily Noir:** _ **Thank you for your reviews! I**_ _ **'m so glad you enjoyed each chapter! I hope this answered where Jet has been. He's a dragon, but my take on dragons is that they're reptiles, and they conserve energy as much as they can, so he doesn't participate a ton. Now, of course, he sticks a little closer.**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **I**_ _ **'m so glad you liked FitzSimmons! I love them in AOS, and I always thought they should show up a bit in the movies and that the movie characters should show up in the show.**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Thanks for reading! It**_ _ **'s always great to hear your thoughts. Please rate and review!**_

 _ **Disclaimer for the sake of disclaimers: I only own my original characters. Any works or characters mentioned in this story are property of their producers, namely Marvel.**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


	38. Chapter 38: L Déjà Vu

There was a strange weight on his arm. It moved and shifted like a living thing, and then it let out a very familiar trill.

Loki opened his eyes to find the Captain in his bedroom in Eleanore's reading chair with a library book on the atom bomb. Charlie the source of the weight, rolled over and climbed up his chest to rub his face on Loki's nose. The cat's paws felt like white-hot brands, and his breath was terrible.

"Good morning," Steve greeted him with a glance at his watch. "Afternoon, actually."

Loki didn't bother to respond, looking around and trying to figure out what sort of nightmare this would devolve into. Everything felt so real… and everything hurt. Was this the afterlife? Had he dragged the mortals to death with him? But then, why was there a cat? He winced as he turned his head and tried to raise his arms out from under the woolly blanket that covered his upper body. Shooting pains sent lightning along his nerves, only growing worse as he became more aware. Early afternoon light shone through the closed blinds. He raised a club-like hand and pushed the cat back carefully, steeling himself against the fire that flared with each movement.

"Loki?" Eleanore walked in the open door, a relieved smile lighting her features. She wasted no time in approaching for assessment and concern, practically sitting in Steve's lap so she could start poking and prodding Loki's face. "Good, you're awake. How're you feeling? Let me see your eyes. Is your brain working okay?"

"Wait. Stop," Loki sat up using sheer willpower, suppressing a groan, brushing her back to give himself some room to breathe. He forced his mind beyond the misery of inhabiting such an unruly, injured, weak body. What in Hel had— _Vulcan._ It all came rushing back, from the confidence at the start of the battle, the teeth-grinding determination to succeed, the despair and resignation at the end. There were even recollections of red and gold shadows and worried brown eyes letting too much light into his darkening mind.

"I should be dead." His voice was rasping from disuse. His throat hurt. He wanted water. He'd been prepared for the end. Had seen no way past it, really. He'd felt himself fading away, cold creeping along his limbs, a sense of peace that was so strange and welcome.

"You almost were, if that's any consolation." Eleanore reached around and held a glass to his lips, which he drained in three gulps. "Hulk got there right as Vulcan was going to do another blast. Now, do let me see your eyes, okay? And don't move too much." She pulled her medical pack from beside his bed and opened it for the little flashlight within. Loki looked down and caught a glimpse of familiar, out-of-place instruments.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, reaching for the life-sustaining device suspiciously. He had to stop himself from tumbling off the bed before he touched it. The room spun and nothing made sense for a moment.

"Stop moving around." Eleanore steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. That, at least, was rational. Real. "Eir and this guard named Yngvar visited while you were out. Eir taught me how to use these and saved your life." She and the Captain watched him for a reaction.

Loki did not give them one, internalizing his thoughts under a blank expression. _Odin sent... No, it would have been Frigga._ "They took their leave, then?" He couldn't stomach the thought of Yngvar waiting in the living room, listening to Eleanore fuss over him.

"Yeah, they left right after we got you stabilized." Eleanore and the Captain shared a glance. There was something they weren't telling him.

"What is it?" Loki asked, holding back a sigh. He was so tired already. He wished he'd never woken up.

Eleanore bit the inside of her cheek and stepped closer, taking his chin in her hand. He let her, and stared at her warm brown eyes as she shined the little flashlight into his. "Looks normal. Can I check your vital signs again? And Yngvar was kind of rude."

Loki bitterly laughed aloud, then winced involuntarily as she took his hand and checked for his pulse. "You have no idea," he said through gritted teeth. It felt like fire was burning up and down his arms, fading at his shoulders, white hot at his fingertips. His hands, normally thin with visible veins, were swollen and mottled with green, purple, and black bruises that felt like they extended deep into the bones, and the skin itself was a deep shade of charcoal extending up his arms. Every breath was agony. He'd strained himself too far holding back the Vulcan's magic. His abdomen burned as well, like lava was pulsing from his heart. Loki saw the roping burns snaking over his chest when he looked down; a memento of Vulcan's superior ability branded into his skin until he finally healed. Loki couldn't summon the energy to feel angry about it. The rest of him was feeble and exhausted, barely holding up to the slight exertion of sitting upright. This injury was the worst and longest-lasting he'd ever had, including his recovery time from being held prisoner.

"Was he like that when you lived there?" Steve asked.

What were they talking about? Oh, right, Yngvar. "One could say that." One could also say he should never have made Einherjar. _Merciless and judgmental instead of honorable and protective._

"Yeah, well, I told him not to come back unless he could be civil." Eleanore grinned wryly and placed fingers tipped with healing magic on Loki's forehead. "Aaannnd I sound like my grandma. 'If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.'" She scoffed and smiled.

"That was… dangerous." Loki looked her over, then the Captain. His eyes ached with weariness. No sign of an attack or attempted attack from an angry Asgardian. The man used to lose his temper over a missed sword placement or a reprimand from an instructor when Loki had trained with him. They had grown up together, Yngvar only a few years older than Thor, and for a time Loki had admired him. That had come to an end in their adolescence, when Thor had made a joke about Yngvar's lack of a love interest and the older boy had attempted to beat the golden prince into a pulp. He was strong, but Loki and Thor together were a match. All three of them had left the encounter with scrapes and bruises, and they had avoided each other after that. If Yngvar had reacted the same way to Eleanore's comment, she would have been lucky to escape with her life.

"Here." She seemed unaware of her close call, closing her eyes and pressing her palms against his upper arms. The warm tingling swept through his body, leaving the slightest sweet relief wherever it went. And crushing weariness. This healing left him fighting to stay upright, to keep his eyes from closing, losing ground every second as the energy drained from him muscles. The pain was lessened, but his fingers weren't working and his mind was so muddled with half-remembered events he had trouble discerning what was real. Eleanore was talking, but he was too focused on staying awake to pay much attention. Her hand was on his face, warm, far too familiar and comforting. "Loki, it's okay. Just lean back. You can go to sleep again. It's okay, it's okay."

Was it okay? Loki felt himself being propped against pillows once more by Steve's hands, the blankets being drawn up again. Fingers smoothing hair from his forehead. "Don't get any ideas from this, mortals," he cautioned, or tried to. It came out as a growling murmur, which did not convey the threatening tone or even the words he'd hoped for at all. He didn't even know what he meant by it, only that he was uncomfortable being unable to control his own actions.

\- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

He was less uncomfortable when he woke to a dark and empty room. The door was open just a bit, letting in a sliver of yellow light from the living room. Outside was darkness and pattering rain with the occasional flash of lightning and rumble of thunder. The clock next to his bed glowed _two fifteen_ in red numerals. He'd slept for another ten hours or so, then, if this was even the same day.

Loki slowly moved, sitting up and testing the limits of the healing. He was still sore, and his arms and hands hurt like hellfire, but his back and legs were functional. Pain, to a warrior, was a sign of life. He could feel his weakness in the light trembling that still traveled over his muscles at the first sign of use. Magic was not an option in his current state of tentative control. Even drinking the glass of water left on the nightstand proved difficult as his fingers wouldn't bend or cooperate. His mind was clear, but he felt lightheaded as the blood flowed more quickly through his veins. All in all, pathetic.

Still, he wanted to get out of his filthy trousers, perhaps even take a shower, definitely use the restroom. He rose carefully from the bed, letting his fading vision pass until he was stable on his ( _bare?_ ) feet. He hadn't noticed his limited state of undress as much before, but it made sense since Eleanore and the Captain had always done what they could to preserve his privacy. His armor was gone, the leg portion folded neatly on his desk chair, the boots sat upon the floor next to them. His shirt and upper armor had likely been mostly destroyed when they were trying to keep him alive. Certainly, the life-sustaining device needed to touch skin to prove effective. Loki did not mourn the loss of his garments, as he had been wearing a Midgardian t-shirt instead of one of his Asgardian tunics, and he could repair the armor if they had kept it.

He refocused on his body and gathered some clothes from his closet and dresser — a plain green t-shirt and a pair of black sweat pants. He turned to the door. There were no audible noises coming from the next room, but that only meant that whoever was there was being quiet. Loki paused before the door and listened again, this time discerning two sets of breathing and Charlie's snores. He opened it and stepped into the light.

Eleanore was asleep on the couch, cheek mashed into the yellow decorative cushion, one arm thrown over Jet— a dog— at her side, Charlie's ears visible just beneath her chin. Jet opened his eyes and slowly raised his head to meet Loki's gaze. Once he'd confirmed safety, however, he sighed and relaxed again, leaving Eleanore and the cat undisturbed.

Loki was glad they hadn't woken. He just wanted to clean himself up and go back to bed. He was not even hungry, only wearier with every step. He made it to the bathroom and shut the door, thankful that the sound barrier was still in place. He relieved himself and turned the shower on, stripping and stepping into the cold stream with a sigh.

His hands worked, barely, as he lathered up, burning further as they cooled with the water. His entire being shrank instinctively away from the cold, shivering uncontrollably. Loki growled with pain and frustration and turned the temperature to its warmest, hissing as it hit his back. He struggled with the soap bottles and finally settled for fumbling around with a bar that was always set on one of the shelves, but which no one ever used. He ran the slippery thing over whatever parts of his body he could reach without too much pain, and lathered it through his hair, letting the searing water take care of the rest. The simple task of cleaning himself was taking forever, his very thoughts now growing sluggish like he'd just struggled against the Other's influence whispering on the edge of his thoughts about killing and death and destiny. He measured half an hour tentatively in his mind, all spent on personal hygiene.

Loki made sure to do a thorough job, not knowing what sort of dirt had gotten all over him as he lay in the street. Then he slowed even more as his perceptions changed. He was feeling ill, his stomach churning, his face cooling unnaturally. His vision quickly started to turn black on the edges, the darkness creeping closer as he frantically rinsed the soap from his body and pulled his clothes on without drying off in case he was dying and his corpse was to be found. He stumbled to kneel on the bath mat. He couldn't see anymore, and his heart was pulsing frantically like a bird's wings beating against his rib cage. He felt cold sweat join the water dripping down his skin. Gasped for air, but there did not seem to be enough, and it all carried heavy steam anyway. _What is happening to me?_

The door cracked open, letting cold air into the too-warm room, causing Loki's clammy skin to prickle.

"Loki?" Eleanore was concerned, likely sensing his rising panic. "Oh, jeez."

Hot palms burned his arm and forehead, and then they were propping him against the shower partition to his right. Eleanore's presence was gone and water was running in the sink. Loki shivered again tensely, trying to raise his arms with limited success, feeling himself slipping further away from command and consciousness. Every movement made him feel sicker.

He reached for anything to ground himself, and found the cool tile of the floor to his left, the plastic shell of the shower's side to his right. Not solid enough to be reassuring to his scattering thoughts. The pain wasn't even grounding, only confusing him further because things like this were not associated with his mortals, nor the apartment. His neck wouldn't support his head well. He was falling and falling again, like on the bridge. This was the Void. He'd been found again, and this was torture.

" _You will long for something sweet as pain_."

He'd experienced such affliction before at the hands of the Other. It was familiar, terrifying madness. The faceless beast would lock Loki in darkness for days and weeks and uncountable time on end, sending nothing and no one to break the silence. Loki's only company was his heartbeat, if he was lucky enough to hear it. At times the Other would use magic to stop his hearing as well, and Loki would fall and float alone. When he would emerge into harsh light and growling noise, he'd had to exert all his willpower not to grovel and cower from the stimulation. He'd become a creature of darkness, remolded, then broken. Everything in him splintered into jagged shards.

This time, Loki knew he'd never hold himself together.

 _No. Please, no._

Eleanore's hands were back, tilting his head forward to rest against what felt like her collarbone. He smelled laundry detergent, her soap, the lilac perfume Darren had given her.

Eleanore did not belong to the Void, or to that lonely asteroid of misery. She was warm and happy and strong. Other people grinned whenever she smiled. She was glue the Avengers used to repair themselves, and soft protection from the outside world. She belonged to the contradictory, colorful light of Midgard.

This was not the Void… This was life on Earth. This was humanity and kindness and concern. This was weakness worth enduring, because he'd been wounded protecting noble comrades.

Loki slowly returned to reality, even though his vision remained dark. He had no idea how much time had passed, and worse, he found he was clutching Eleanore so tightly that his hands were sending shooting cramps straight into his chest.

An ice-cold cloth settled against the back of his neck, offering relief even as it sent his body into convulsions once more. Fingers brushed against the back of his head in a soothing pattern.

"Loki, just breathe. Okay? Breathe slowly. You're going to be fine. This is just heat exhaustion. I've had it before, and it's no big deal. You might be having a panic attack right now, too. It's okay, though, I promise." Eleanore explained things through the pulsing in his ears. Something soft brushed against his knee, and a paw balanced on its edge accompanied by a curious trill. It left the next second. "Go away, Charlie. We'll get you cooled off, and you'll be okay."

"I can't… see." Loki forced out, blinking uselessly, raising his head against its dizzying weight. Since when did he get mortal illnesses?

"Yeah, that's a symptom. Your vision will come back soon. Rest for a few minutes and just breathe, like I told you." The cloth was removed and replaced, and another one began wiping the sweat from his face while a warm hand cupped his cheek. "Do you feel nauseous?"

"I feel cold." Bright spots started dancing in the darkness, widening to reveal dark curls and calm eyes. Loki fought the temptation to shake his head and instead mentally focused on all the details he could make out. Brown irises, which were really not brown under close consideration: flecks of green and amber speckled under dark lashes, crinkled corners that made a smile warm. Skin tanned from working outside with a smattering of light freckles across her nose. Chestnut curls with a natural sheen of red and a single white hair near her forehead, all pinned back into a sleep-mussed style. Pajamas— a blue sweatshirt with Steve's shield emblazoned on its chest, and short pants and bare feet with chipping pink paint. A relieved but confident grin.

"There, see? Ha, literally. Sit still for a little while, though. I'll get you some water." She disappeared into the dark kitchen, returning a moment later with a large glass. "Drink slowly, and let me know if you need to throw up."

Loki sipped at the water, feeling each drop as it hit his stomach and turned it back into a roiling mess. He set it aside and wiped a shaking hand over his face. "I just wanted a shower."

"I know." Eleanore smiled sympathetically and fanned his wet shirt against his chest. "Want me to get you some dry clothes? Or I can kinda slake the water off you."

"Perhaps a different shirt." He didn't feel like attempting to change his pants, not when he knew standing would be a task all on its own. Eleanore left and returned with a gray t-shirt and black socks, and Loki used his green shirt to dry off before donning them. Movement was less sickening now, and he wanted to get off the bathroom floor. "Am I allowed to rise?"

"I'll help," Eleanore took his upper arm and threw it over her shoulders, letting him use her and the wall for support. She coughed shaking both of them.

Loki leaned most of his weight on the wall with his trembling right forearm, slowly straightening until he was upright. It didn't matter how he distributed himself; he still burned.

"Easy," Eleanore reminded him. "Do you want to go to your bed or the couch?"

"It makes little difference." Loki just wanted to sit down again. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as they exited the room, all gray skin and dark eyes, thin and hollow cheeks.

"My kit's in the living room." Eleanore led him carefully to the sofa, where he sank into the cushions with a sigh. Jet had relocated to the bedroom, it seemed. "Relax for a while, okay? I'm going to check your vitals again."

Loki raised his head for her eye examination, and she pressed her fingers into his neck for a pulse.

"Heartbeat still rapid. Here, have more water." She handed him a bottle from her pack, and he drained it. "Good. Temperature's on the warm side of normal for you. How are you feeling?"

Loki closed his eyes, noting the shivers were gone, but a headache was beginning at the base of his skull. "Am I really so weakened?"

"You got hit with a _lot_ of energy." Eleanore ignored her unanswered question to explain Loki's situation. "Your muscles and nerves are almost fried, and you had knives sticking out of you, which conducted the power into your deep tissue and organs. Eir said no exertion or magic for a week, minimum. You really did almost die. It's going to take a while to recover from that."

He pondered this, recalling the blinding light and pain, staring up at the sky through closing eyes as his body shut down. He'd known he was dying, but he'd figured it wouldn't affect Eleanore or Steve that much since Vulcan would kill them soon as well. "How did you survive?"

"Hulk finally got there and smashed Vulcan up quite a bit. Then Tony flew in right at the last minute and used this device that shot all his energy into the air. It was intense." Eleanore handed him another bottle and sat next to him.

Loki drank thoughtfully, switching hands to disperse the pain. "One less threat to worry about, I suppose."

Eleanore didn't answer. Loki glanced at her and found a grimace in place of the agreement he'd expected. She met his eyes and sighed. "You're gonna be mad."

"Do not tell me he escaped." He _was_ angry, but not at her. None of their team was truly responsible for prisoner collection, not when SHIELD's forces were in such close proximity. And Eleanore would have been focused on healing himself, Jet, Darren, and Steve all at once.

"We don't know how it happened. All the cameras were vaporized when that energy blast went up," Eleanore stared straight ahead, looking frustrated as well. "Steve called Hill while we were on our way back here with you; apparently she thought Darren and Tony were picking him up. But we thought SHIELD was, and by the time they checked, he was gone. Tony says he couldn't have walked away under his own power, so someone might have kidnapped him."

Loki felt a growl rising in his throat. He fought the urge to stand and pace, digging his fingers into the cushioned armrest of the couch. The pain grounded him. "So not only must we worry about Vulcan's revenge, but also whoever took him."

"Yeah." Eleanore yawned and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry."

"The fault does not lie with you." Loki could admit that aloud, since they were in this danger together. His proximity would undoubtedly be a factor whenever the mutant came back, and Eleanore was always around.

"I know, but I'm still sorry he got away." She reached down and picked up the cat, who was watching them from the floor. "But anyway. Are you hungry at all? Tired?"

"I am weary," Loki confirmed. "However, I do not think sleep is in my near future."

"'Cause you're angry?" Eleanore nodded along. "Okay. We've had people investigating where Vulcan went and who took him. That's where Steve is right now. At the Triskelion, not on the ground. And we've got SHIELD agents on the roof and around the building looking for any sign of a threat."

"Humans will not have much of a chance against him," Loki scoffed, leaning back and spreading his legs out straight in front of him. "And I will not be in a position to defend us for some time."

"Weeks," Eleanore agreed, petting Charlie's stomach and coughing lightly. "You're not going into the field 'til I'm sure you're fully recovered."

"Advice you could stand to follow," Loki pointed out with a grin. "Did I not hear some bickering when the dust of the building irritated your damaged lungs?"

"Steve was pissed." She shrugged. "He got over it. I was fine running around until that happened. And I'm taking the medicine now, so I should be better in a couple of days."

"Of course." Loki knew that arguing that point would not get him anywhere. He took another drink, finishing the bottle off. "Have you any ideas for our mystery culprit?"

"I'm still trying to figure out why Vulcan was even attacking in the first place." She frowned, thinking, her eyes gazing through the floorboards. "He didn't start or end with Stark Tower, and he didn't go for anything but general destruction."

"He wanted to draw the Avengers out," Loki said, having thought that was obvious. "He targeted us." Then again, his mind supplied, there could be missing components the team hadn't found. They needed a full-scale investigation, starting with Vulcan's origin of attack and ending with answers. But… Loki was too weary to get into that train of thought. He knew SHIELD would at least be questioning the attack as well. That was enough for the moment.

"It just seems really stupid," Eleanore protested. Her voice gained the edge of information and discussion. "Because, like, okay. He could take some of us out, like me and Steve, but he had to know that the rest of you were going to bring him down."

"Some men underestimate their opponents." Loki chuckled and drew her attention. "Though I would know nothing about that."

"Yeah, of course not." She smiled and relaxed again, leaning one arm onto the back of the couch and running her fingers through her hair. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"If I were to eat now, my stomach would rebel. How was Yngvar rude?" Loki asked, changing the subject as quickly as Eleanore sometimes did.

"He was just generally kind of an asshole," Eleanore explained calmly. "Arrogant, mad at Jet for some reason. I don't like him. Rice would probably settle okay for you."

"Asgardians distrust dragons," Loki confirmed, ignoring her intuitive judgment. "Their power is considered dangerous. I really don't want to eat."

"Asgardians distrust a lot of people," Eleanore noted with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, well." Loki shrugged, nearly glad he was not actually a part of that race. Not that his true form was any better, but at least he questioned the pompous, self-righteous attitude Thor had grown into. "Nothing a few weeks with one such as you wouldn't repair."

"What do you me—" Eleanore was asking when there was a knock at the hall door. She looked over, and her expression went from playful discussion to confused wariness in a second.

"What is it?" Loki murmured, feeling no sign of malevolent power.

"Stay here," she told him. Not an order. She rose and walked across the room, peering through the hole in the door. Another knock sounded.

Loki forced himself up and followed her, Jet appearing beside him. He reached the kitchen's tile just as she turned the lock, and Loki braced himself to fight again if the situation turned ugly. Was there no respite?

"Phil?" Eleanore asked incredulously, opening the door only a crack.

 _Phil? I have heard that name before._ Loki tried and failed to place it, running through every mortal he'd met and especially those Eleanore knew. None were named Phil.

"Sorry to barge in like this." The _voice_ was familiar. Bluish hazes and the glowing scepter, facing off against an inauspicious man in a suit. Killing him. Definitely killing him. Eleanore opened the door to reveal the moving, walking, talking corpse. "We're here about Vulcan's case."

"Phil?!" Eleanore threw the door open, her expression somewhere between confusion and delight. So she'd known him in life. And again, now, in his second life.

"Phil?" the young woman behind the agent asked skeptically. She had dark almond eyes and tanned skin like a Vanir, and an expression Eleanore might call 'sassy'. "You didn't say we were visiting family, Coulson."

"Well, we're not related," Coulson explained, hugging Eleanore and letting her step back. He looked over her head and met Loki's eyes. "It's been awhile. You look a lot less crazy."

Loki accepted the jab from his stabbing victim. "You look significantly more alive."

"Come in," Eleanore invited, nearly running into Loki as she stepped back further to allow the presuming guests inside.

"Thank you," Coulson said. "Eleanore Engman, Loki, meet Agent Skye."

"Wait, Eleanore _Engman_? Like Darren Stark's girlfriend?" The young woman, Agent Skye, focused on Eleanore with new enthusiasm. Loki inwardly winced at the ice that passed momentarily over Eleanore's gaze at the title she hated the most.

"Just Eleanore is fine," she replied, clearly, to Loki, holding back sarcasm. "But yeah. Like Darren Stark's girlfriend."

"Oh my god, what kind of tech do you get?" Agent Skye asked, oblivious to the insult, following Eleanore further into the apartment. "Do you get early releases on the newest stuff? Top secret developments? What kind of coding does he do, personally?" At least she was more enamored with Darren's inventiveness than Eleanore's relationship with him.

"She is quite the fan," Loki observed quietly to Coulson.

"A former hacktivist," Coulson confirmed. "She's one of the best hackers in the world, Starks included."

"A bit young," Loki said, feeling oddly comfortable around this man he'd impaled and nearly killed. But then, Loki had also nearly died just the day before, and he was exhausted, verging on delirious. He felt like he was floating in a haze. _I should probably report that to Eleanore._

"Says the guy whose handler can't legally drink." Coulson chuckled, watching as Eleanore sat on the couch and picked Charlie up, patiently answering Agent Skye's questions and playing the part of dutiful hostess.

"So how did you survive?" Loki asked, letting his curiosity overcome his pride. If he was going to stand here to the point of collapse, he'd at least have some questions answered.

"I walked it off," Coulson deadpanned, looking up at him. "I'm kidding. I just had really good doctors."

"You didn't have Eleanore, and that's what it would have taken," Loki observed.

"I guess you would know. How was getting fried yesterday?"

"Unpleasant." Loki frowned. "Did you say you had news on Vulcan?"

"We're here to work with you on that. Captain Rogers should be here soon to discuss it as well."

Loki didn't miss the swelling of pride the man exhibited as he spoke of the Captain. He could have a little fun with this. "Mm, Steve was most distressed to learn he escaped."

Coulson bristled at the casual mention of a man he clearly considered heroic.

"Did you say something about Steve?" Eleanore asked, interrupting the barrage of questions.

"He will be here shortly," Loki told her. "Perhaps you should call Darren in to sign some autographs as well."

"We're going to go meet at the Tower," Coulson informed them. "There's a quinjet on the roof waiting for us."

" _Stark Tower?_ " Agent Skye mouthed the words animatedly.

"I'll get him to give you a lab tour," Eleanore offered, smiling at the other woman's excitement. Loki thought the agent acted and seemed much younger than his 'handler' was, even though he judged Skye's age toward the middle of her twenties. Eleanore was sort of ageless, though, once one got to know her, as most people were. As Steve was, and Banner. And then there were people like Tony Stark who acted so much younger than their actual age it was a wonder they were allowed to use the toilet unsupervised.

Footsteps leapt quickly up the staircase, and Steve walked in the door without knocking, as usual, dressed as an icon with his shield on his back. "Hey…" he greeted Loki cheerfully, then trailed off at the sight of Coulson, looking like he'd seen a ghost.

"Captain Rogers," Coulson greeted him, sounding as ecstatic as a stoic man could. "I guess it's been a while. Still good to see you well again. I mean, good to see you're looking… How're you doing?"

Loki met Steve's eyes as the agent grew more flustered with each syllable. Steve, to his credit, kept calm and held out his hand. "I'm doing well, thank you. Good to see you looking… alive."

"I'll go get dressed." Eleanore excused herself from Skye's inquiry and headed into her bedroom.

"Skye, this is Captain Rogers," Coulson said as Agent Skye approached, barely holding back a prideful smile.

Loki was going to have an outburst: either laughter or vomit. He couldn't tell which. He was already having trouble schooling his legs into unshaking strength.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Steve said, shaking Skye's hand.

"I'm just surrounded by stars today," Skye muttered, looking the Captain up and down, then turning to Loki. "Should I know you, too?"

Loki smiled sarcastically. "I would not presume such fame. I humbly serve at the behest of my handlers."

"He's Loki," Steve reiterated, performing another polite introduction. "He's an Avenger."

"Oh, the magic guy," Skye nodded. "You look paler in person."

"An affect, I'm told, that nearly dying will cause." Loki turned as Eleanore emerged from her bedroom, tying her hair back in a low bun over her suit's collar.

"You're not fighting for at least a week," she reminded him. Again. "Will you get Charlie? I'll leave him at the Tower."

"I've got him." Steve picked up the cat sniffing at his shoes. "On the roof?"

"After you." Coulson gestured, following him out into the hallway. Skye was on his heels, and Loki donned his running shoes because they required the least amount of work and waited for Eleanore to grab her pack and Jet's saddle before he took her keys and locked the apartment door. Or tried to, anyway. His useless gray sausage fingers dropped the keys in a jingling heap.

"Are you okay?" Eleanore whispered, hefting her things on one hip and pickup the keys back up. They started for the stairs slowly.

"I think perhaps a break from battle _would_ benefit me," Loki admitted through constricting lungs. Even the first flight was killing him.

"List your symptoms," Eleanore ordered.

"Can this not wait?"

"Want to go through a full checkup on the plane?"

Loki sighed. They were only halfway up the stairwell. Steve was leaning over the railing at the top, looking down with concern. "Lightheadedness, general weakness in all my muscles, my lungs won't fill properly, and the nerves along my hands and arms and chest are on fire. Figuratively."

"I'm literally not surprised," Eleanore said, putting a hand behind his back as a light guide. "I have my pack. I'll wrap your hands on the plane, okay? And then we can see if Bruce has any pain medication at the Tower that will work on you, and some oxygen. I hope this meeting is short. I'll show you to my room there, and you can sleep some more. Steve and I will keep you updated, but you need to rest."

That plan sounded excellent. "I'll do as you say, my lady."

Eleanore rolled her eyes at him. "You need to tell me if anything changes. For better or worse. If we're apart, have Jarvis tell me."

They were finally reaching the top of the stairs. Loki's legs were shaking. He forced himself to take measured steps as the edge of his vision faded in and out, reluctant to show weakness in front of a stranger and someone he'd supposedly killed.

"You look terrible," Agent Skye remarked, regardless.

Loki didn't deign to answer her.

"He's not feeling great," Eleanore said.

"He saved our lives yesterday, along with half of New York," Steve added, sticking close to Loki's side as they walked into the cool night breeze.

Leave it to these two to paint him in the best light possible. Loki straightened his back and tried to walk independently and regally into the quinjet. Coulson was asking about Rogers' role in the battle, and Agent Skye's attention was diverted by that conversation. If Loki collapsed into the 'bucket seat,' then no one seemed to notice. He kept his sigh of relief to himself.

"Here." Eleanore retrieved the supportive bandages from the plane's First Aid kit instead of her own. She liked to keep her pack stocked and ready as possible. She sat down in the seat next to Loki, all business and capability. "Lean your head back and rest. And tell me where it hurts most."

Loki didn't lean his head back. He watched as Steve made his way to the cockpit and Coulson followed him. Agent Skye took a seat across the aisle and pulled a laptop from her bag.

Eleanore took his left hand, and Loki fought back a hiss. "My hands hurt most. Does that answer your question?"

"Where do they hurt the mostly-most?" Eleanore asked cheerily, ignoring his disparaging tone. She gently ran a glowing finger from Loki's wrist to the tip of his thumb, then over the rest of his fingers in turn without waiting for a reply.

Loki felt the healing start to calm the excited nerves. "Don't," he commanded sharply.

"What?" Eleanore asked, surprised.

"Save your energy. You're finding Vulcan, remember?" Loki made his tone a bit gentler, but he kept the ring of command in it. "I'll heal on my own. Besides, I can barely stand now. If you weaken me further, Steve will have to carry me out of this plane, and Tony will never stop speaking of it."

Eleanore frowned at him. "If I heal you, you'll be back in fighting shape sooner."

"You'll make me wait the same amount of time either way," Loki pointed out deceitfully. Eleanore would believe that, because it was partially the truth. She would keep him from battle until she was sure he was fully recovered. But if they found Vulcan or whoever took him, Loki was going to fight them no matter how much time had passed.

As he'd expected, his argument won out. Eleanore "So it hurts most in your hands? What about your wrists?"

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Their flight came to an end after half an hour. Loki departed next to Steve and behind Eleanore, letting the warm night air and the horrifying smell of exhaust from the city below wash over him. He was _so_ _tired_ , and he knew that tension and annoyance were just ahead of him. For once, he wanted to hide behind the mortals whose lives he shared.

But he also wanted to slice the Vulcan with well-placed spells, rending him limb from limb. This meeting might give him the information to do just that. Coulson and Skye followed behind him as he entered the cool, bright entertainment area of Tony and Darren's residence where the Starks, Bruce, Clint, and Natasha were all assembled.

Loki was also gratified to see the utter shock that passed over all of their faces as they recognized, rejected, and marveled over Coulson's presence in turn. Even impassive Natasha looked like she was about to throw up, and Clint swore loudly. Tony was silent, for a change. Bruce was the least affected, only looking confused, next to a cautious Darren who had eyes only for Eleanore.

"I walked it off," Coulson explained again.

"This is how we hear from you?" Clint asked darkly.

"What the hell, Phil?" Tony added. "Pepper _cried_ over you!"

"You could have dropped a line," Darren agreed solemnly.

Natasha and Bruce stayed silent. One was observing, the other was confused.

"I'm sorry," Coulson apologized sincerely. "I'm head of a secret group now. Fury was in charge of the… covert nature of this one."

"As always," Tony jeered. "Always running back to the king of spies. What about your friends?"

Loki could tell the older Stark was really hurt by the… abandonment? Betrayal? He vaguely remembered Tony mentioning 'Phil' when listing off people Loki had angered during his mind-controlled assault on the Midgard.

"That's enough," Steve said sternly. He stood tall next to Coulson with a frown that dared anyone to cross him. " _Agent_ Coulson was doing his job. Right now, _our_ job is to work with him to find Vulcan and the person who helped him escape. Save the vitriol for the after-party."

Everyone was silent for a moment, glancing from Coulson to each other to Steve.

Bruce's eyes rested on Loki first, and he approached. The doctor was clearly still tired from his role as the Hulk, but he looked nearly recovered. "How are you feeling?"

All eyes turned to their interaction. Loki was both uncomfortable and gratified with the worry contained in most of those gazes. He cleared his throat and tried to look as capable as ever. He knew the bravado would be easily seen through because he could barely focus his eyes at this point. "Eleanore has seen to me."

Said Eleanore was shifting restlessly with a distant expression. At the mention of her name, she tuned into the conversation. "Can we go to the med bay to talk about it?" she asked.

Loki realized the tension and conflicting emotions in the room were making her twitch like a helmet tassel in the wind. Certainly, he could see anger, disbelief, pain, and bitterness emanating from Tony alone. Clint was straightforward: angry and resigned to Steve's authority. Natasha was impassive, but who knew what emotions roiled beneath that surface? Darren just touched Eleanore's arm absently, deep in thought. Jet stayed coiled around her neck, a shimmering reminder of weary protection. And Charlie wound around everyone's legs, naturally assuming he should be the center of attention.

"Sure," Bruce agreed. Medical consultations, Loki knew, were private affairs on Midgard. Doctor Banner held to the standards of his practice whenever possible.

Bruce led them from the main room into the elevator, where they descended two floors until they reached Bruce's personal level. It was reinforced with two separate labs, a small clinic with enough rooms for all the Avengers, and a small living area. The colors were calming: blues, yellows, and earth tones combined with various abstract works of art. Loki recognized one of Eleanore's paintings by her jagged signature hung above the couch. The background was a yellowed pine branch, and the foreground consisted of an outline of a herd of graceful woodland deer. Eleanore called them 'forest cows' when they were in Iowa, because Zephaniah and Cole liked to hunt them.

The clinic lacked the typical disinfectant smell of hospitals. The room Bruce led them to held a white-covered bed with metal arms, a glass cupboard full of first aid supplies and nonprescription painkillers, and a glass-paned cabinet that held smocks, spare clothing, and extra blankets. The counter had glass containers of cotton swabs, uniform wooden sticks, and mortal candies.

"Have a seat," Bruce invited, motioning Loki to the bed.

Loki sank onto the edge of the mattress. Eleanore stood beside him, visibly more relaxed than she had been in the other room. There was still a tightness around her eyes, but that was normal when she was working with Bruce on something medical.

"So," Bruce, said, hanging a stethoscope around his neck. "What do we have?"

Loki had no real answer to that. He knew what Eleanore had said, but she hadn't fully explained the injuries as she knew them. Loki also hadn't asked. "Well, from what I understand, your monster saved my life."

Bruce grinned amiably. "I remember that. You really didn't look so good as a street pancake."

"He's got deep burns, like, under his skin," Eleanore supplied, getting them back on track. She lifted Loki's shirt without ceremony to show Bruce the twisting vines of energy. "His own magic strained him too far, I think. His hands are really swollen, and there are bruises that go straight through the bones."

"Interesting." Bruce peered over his glasses at Loki's chest.

Just like that, Loki was a patient. A specimen for these two to examine and potentially cure. He took no offense; he'd felt the same detached focus when he was learning a new spell or planning for a complex battle. He submitted to the gentle prodding, the thermometer, the help Eleanore gave in actually removing his shirt, the reflex tests, the unwrapping of his hands, the general pain, the exhaustion that was growing like the explosion of a dying star. He didn't know how he was going to get through the meeting after this. Sheer force of will only went so far against this sort of weakness, which was growing worse the longer he sat still.

"I've got some meds I mixed up for Steve," Bruce was saying, speaking to Eleanore. Loki realized why she'd told him and Steve to sign the medical power of attorney forms. In this muddle, he was clueless. Bruce could shoot him with a poison dart, and he wouldn't know the difference until it was too late. Poison from the peaceful doctor was a funny thought. Loki started grinning without meaning to. He fought to keep his eyes from closing with the expression.

"Let's start with a low dose," Eleanore decided, starting the wrap on his right hand again. She raised an eyebrow at Loki, returned the grin, and looked at his hands. "Bruce, do you have any ideas on anti-inflammatories?"

"The painkiller mix also has NSAIDs," Bruce informed her.

 _NSAID_ _s_ _?_ Loki frowned at his own confusion. He'd lost the previous words, and now he was busy keeping track of his location. Stark Tower, Bruce's floor. Medical bay. Who was injured again? He felt the fire flare in his hands again and Eleanore started wrapping the left one.

 _Oh, right._

"Leave that one looser," Bruce commanded, gesturing to Loki's left hand. "We'll do an IV drip of the meds in his elbow. That way we'll know he's getting them, and at what rate."

They got the needle into his arm, which protested with a fair amount of pain. Eleanore and Bruce wouldn't be hurting him if they had any other choice, so Loki tried to hide the discomfort. The medicine trickled into his system, spreading the tiredness further. The needle and the cord were cold. He hated the cold. He glared at his arm.

"Loki?" Eleanore crooked a finger under his chin and turned his head to face her.

Loki fought the urge to lean his head over and give up control. It would be so simple to sleep and sleep and never wake up. He blinked quickly, trying to focus. "Eleanore?"

"I need you to listen to me, okay? Remember this: you can't take the IV out. Remember how Steve had one in the hospital?" she was speaking gently, slowly. Like she was explaining something to a child. She didn't proceed until Loki confirmed that he did remember. "You need the medicine, if you won't let me heal you. So you need to let the IV stay in your arm."

Loki processed that, closed his eyes, and nodded his understanding. And kept nodding. And felt himself falling forward.

"Shit. Bruce, help me." Two pairs of hands caught him, leaned him back.

Hadn't this already happened? Was he dreaming? No, the sheets were scratchy and the blankets weren't as soft as the ones at home. The pillow, on the other hand, was _too_ soft. His head sank right into it, and one ear was annoyingly blocked.

"— meds— anesthetic— send— watch him." Bruce wasn't making any damned sense.

Eleanore coughed hard. That, at least, was familiar enough by now.

Loki fought hard and managed to crack open his eyes. "Watch _yourself_ , Doctor," he jibed.

Eleanore and Bruce looked at him and smiled… fondly? Strange mortals. Eleanore coughed hard into her elbow. That, at least, was familiar enough by now. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Rest. We'll keep you in the know."

Loki nodded, closing his eyes again. The familiar cadences of his caretakers' voices faded into background music. Darkness. Peace.

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 _ **A/N: Quicker update than I anticipated! Enjoy!**_

 **Vendetta:** _ **I was planning on introducing Coulson in this chapter. Good prediction early on!**_

 **Everyone Else:** _ **Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!**_

 _ **~PettyWhiteRose**_


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